My Beautiful Rescue
by felix-felicis33
Summary: They all said the house was haunted, but Kurt didn't believe any of the stories and he didn't believe in ghosts, so there must be some other explanation as to why food and books are disappearing. When Kurt finds that explanation, he thinks he would have been less shocked if it really had been a ghost. He never expected to find a terrified, hazel-eyed boy living in his attic.
1. Chapter 1

Everyone said the old house on the outskirts of Lima was haunted. The details of how and why it was haunted had been lost in the re-telling of stories, the spreading rumours, the misheard tales, and everyone's reluctance to go near the house. Even people like Puck, who considered himself tough and fearless, refused to get too close to the house that should have been the target of dares and vandalism.

"Dude," he'd say whenever someone mentioned the house or they passed by it, "some fucked-up shit goes down in there. I don't know what it is, but I can feel it when I'm nearby. You don't have to be a tough badass to go inside; you have to be screwed in the head."

A battered 'for sale' sign had been displayed in the overgrown front yard of the house for several months now, but the only calls the estate agents got were from people out of town who hadn't heard the stories. They would shake their heads at the agent after viewing the house and say, "Something just doesn't feel right." It looked like nobody would ever buy it.

The current owner hadn't lived in the house for almost five years. He had another house out of state, but as he had grown up in Lima he bought the old house on the outskirts and used it when he was visiting his old hometown. People said he was selling it because he was relocating overseas. He hadn't visited the house in years, they said, he had no idea about the rumours and tales surrounding it.

Kurt found the house intriguing. Sometimes, he would drive round by it and stare up at the blank windows, tangled front yard, and weathered paintwork. He didn't know why he did it, why the house piqued his curiosity, but it interested him. He would listen intently to any stories about it and would puzzle over every new tale he heard, trying to see how it fit in with the others. Maybe it was the mystery surrounding the house that interested him – it made Lima less boring, even a little bit exciting. Or maybe it was that the house was different and an outsider in this town, just like him. In the end it didn't matter why it interested him; he never shared this with anyone, all that mattered was that the house made him curious.

The people who lived near the house didn't share his views. As it was on the outskirts of town, the houses on that street were more widely spaced, but the neighbours still spoke of hearing noises during the night, and not from the house. From out in the street. They said they were often woken late at night thinking they heard sounds like trash cans being disturbed or footsteps running down the road, but whenever they went to look there was nothing to be seen.

"It's whatever is in that house," their friends would say, nodding knowledgeably. "It must leave during the night and haunt your street." A sympathetic smile. "Just keep your doors and windows locked and you'll be fine. Why they don't just demolish the place, I'll never know."

Kurt's dad was not one to be superstitious or to believe in things like ghost stories; he usually laughed and said they were a load of bullshit. He would shake his head and roll his eyes whenever he heard someone talking about the house and would always say the same thing whenever anyone brought it up in a conversation with him: "It's just an abandoned old house that people are making-up stories about to have something to gossip about." He was one of very few people who thought that way.

Despite knowing his dad's attitude towards the house, Kurt was still shocked when he announced that he had bought it.

Kurt stared at him with his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth. "What?" Across the table from him, Finn was gaping at Burt, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

"I bought the house," Burt repeated calmly. "I told you Carole and I have been looking for a bigger house since she and Finn moved in, and this place is big enough and was a good price."

Kurt glanced over at Carole, his eyes asking for her opinion on this. She just shrugged. "I like the house and I know you boys will too. You'll be able to have your own bedrooms – no more sharing that basement – and they are big rooms with en suite bathrooms."

Kurt didn't know what to say. "I-"

"But it's haunted!" Finn blurted out before Kurt could fumble up a response.

Burt chuckled and shook his head. "Those are just stories, Finn."

"But all those people say they saw someone at the window!" Finn protested, almost stumbling over his words in his frantic panic. "And the noises at night and-"

Carole patted Finn's large hand. "They're just stories people have made-up for something to talk about, sweetie. This is a pretty boring town; people just want something exciting to gossip about."

Finn didn't look particularly convinced and he shot Kurt an appealing look.

Burt, upon seeing this, frowned at Kurt. "You don't believe this made-up trash as well, do you?"

Kurt hesitated, his eyes flicking from Finn to his father, and then he shook his head. "No, it's just a house." Out the corner of his eye he saw Finn's face fall.

Burt nodded approvingly. "Exactly, it's just a house and we're moving in two weeks, so I suggest you use this weekend to start packing."

Kurt nodded absently, his mind on the mysterious house where he would soon be living. It was the truth: he didn't believe all those stories about ghosts haunting the doorways and evil spirits lurking in the shadows of its rooms; something had always seemed off about all those stories people liked to tell when other gossip had run dry. He believed there was more to the house than a ghost story. And Kurt Hummel didn't believe in ghosts.

* * *

To say Kurt's friends were shocked when he told them the news would be an understatement.

"You're moving to _where_?" Mercedes exclaimed loudly, her eyes wide.

Rachel's mouth fell open in horror. "Kurt, is your dad insane? Does he know which house that is? Has he not heard any of the stories?" Her voice was getting louder with each successive question and people passing them on their way to class were starting to stare. "You can't live there!"

Kurt shut his locker and turned to face his friends. "Well, I have to," he said calmly. "I don't believe any of the stories anyway."

"Since when?" Rachel demanded.

Kurt shrugged. "Since always."

A small frown line appeared between Rachel's eyebrows. "You've never mentioned that before."

"And you always listen whenever any of us talk about that house," Mercedes added.

Kurt stepped away from the lockers and began walking down the hall to his next class, Rachel and Mercedes scrambling after him. "_Well?_" Rachel pressed when they had walked for a bit and he still hadn't responded to them.

"Just because I listen to the stories doesn't mean I believe them," he told her lightly.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Kurt you can't expect us to believe that."

Kurt just shrugged again. "Well, it's the truth, but you can believe what you want." He reached the doorway of his class, which he thankfully didn't share with either of them so he wouldn't be pestered throughout the lesson. They hovered by the door, still eyeing him sceptically. "It doesn't matter what you say, my dad has bought the house and we're moving into it in two weeks." And with that, he spun around and entered the classroom.

He knew that the news would leak to the rest of the school at some point; Rachel and Mercedes both liked to gossip and though they were generally good at keeping secrets, they clearly didn't consider this a secret. He just hadn't expected it to spread through the school like wildfire, but by lunchtime everyone knew.

Stares and whispers followed him as he joined the line of jostling students queuing for food and he could feel dozens of eyes on him as he selected a sandwich and bottled water and carried it to his usual table. They didn't even bother to hide their whispers behind hands or to look away when he caught them staring, they just gaped openly at him and muttered to their friends, but then subtlety had never been many of his fellow students' strongest suit. At least their stares and whispered comments were about something other than his sexuality.

He dropped down into a free seat beside Santana and took a bite of his lunch, freezing in the midst of chewing when he realised something. He looked up to find everyone at the table staring at him.

He bit back a heavy sigh. "What?" he said a little resignedly.

They just continued to stare at him in part horror and part grim fascination as if he had just grown an extra head.

"Dude…" Puck breathed eventually.

Kurt just finished chewing his mouthful of sandwich and swallowed.

"I can't believe you are going to live in the creepy house," Puck finally continued.

Santana unfroze as well. "Did living with Finn cause your dad to lose his marbles?"

Kurt unscrewed the cap on his water bottle. "I don't understand the big fuss, it's just a house," he said, echoing his words from last night.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Rachel asked.

"How can so many people believe a bunch of silly ghost stories?" Kurt retaliated.

Rachel opened her mouth to argue back, but was interrupted by Puck sitting up tall and craning his head to see across the cafeteria. "Where's Finn? I bet he's not taking this well, he was shit-scared that time we went by the house at night."

Kurt swallowed a mouthful of water. "He didn't seem too happy about it when my dad told us last night."

For a second Puck grinned wickedly, but the smile was quickly wiped from his face. "Well, at least one of you is reacting normally to this."

Kurt rolled his eyes and went back to his lunch, ignoring his friends as they started discussing the house that was soon to be his new home and all the stories they'd heard about it. It was the first time he hadn't listened to a conversation about the house. He only looked up from his food at Sam's shout.

"Finn! Where have you been, man?"

Finn sat down next to Sam, looking a little on-edge. His eyes darted around the crowded cafeteria and he kept shifting in his seat. "I just needed to go to the library for something," he mumbled.

Everyone at the table stared at him in disbelief – visiting the library was not a phrase they had ever heard come out of Finn's mouth before.

Kurt cottoned on to what Finn had been doing straight away. "Oh, Finn…" he sighed. "Stop getting yourself all worked up. It's just a house and ghosts don't exist."

Finn shook his head frantically at him, his eyes wide. "No! There are all these stories on the internet about people seeing spirits in their homes and there are these photos-"

"It's not real, Finn," Kurt insisted firmly. "If all those reports were looked into properly there would be a perfectly reasonable explanation behind them."

"But what about the photos?" Finn wanted to know. "You can't fake photos!"

Kurt snorted at this. "The camera is a really good liar, Finn and there is also such a thing as Photoshop."

Finn looked ready to protest again, but Kurt shook his head at him. "You're being ridiculous," he flicked his gaze to his friends, "you _all _are. Ghosts don't exist and the house isn't haunted, you'll see when we move in."

* * *

_He wrung his hands as he walked along the corridor towards his locker, keeping his gaze on the floor and his shoulders hunched in an effort to make himself as small as possible in the hopes that nobody would notice him. He jumped when a brunette girl in a cheerleading uniform slammed her locker shut before turning to the tall guy in a letterman jacket leaning against the bank of lockers. He quickened his pace, scurrying down the hall._

_He was twitchy as he opened the door of his locker and began putting away the books he didn't need for that night's homework. He started slightly every time a locker was slammed, another student shouted, or he heard loud footsteps behind him. He couldn't help it; over a year of being bullied had left him permanently nervous whenever he was on school grounds and the thought of what he planned to do tonight made things worse today. Closing his locker gently, he hitched his satchel further up his shoulder and set off for the main doors, torn between hurrying out of school as quickly as possible and dragging it out so he didn't arrive home too quickly._

_He was so tense and worried that he almost walked into someone. "Watch it, fairy boy!" the muscular blond boy snarled. "Or can you not see anyone down at that height?"_

"_S-Sorry," Blaine spluttered out, darting away before the boy could do anything more than sneer at him._

"_Do it again, fairy, and I'll make sure you pay a visit to your good friend, the dumpster!" he yelled after him._

_Blaine ducked his head and walked faster, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest and his hands shaking uncontrollably. He hated this, he hated this school, and he hated the people here. He had only one friend and he was in the year above so he hardly ever saw him during school hours, not that they could be seen together at school, not unless they both wanted some more cuts and bruises and they both had enough of those already._

_He reached the front doors without any further incidents with other students, but he wouldn't feel any relief until he was off school grounds and walking home. There was a burst of laughter from near the steps leading up to the doors and he caught a flash of sleeves of the jackets he feared. His breathing quickened into short pants as he sped up until he was almost running across the parking lot. They may not have been laughing at him or even noticed he was there, but he couldn't take the risk, not with pain still shooting through his back whenever he made too sudden or too large a movement._

_He only allowed himself to slow down when he reached the street leading away from the school and the parking lot rapidly filling with students was disappearing from view. Now that the worry from being at school was leaving him, the fear of what he was going to do when he got home began rising inside him like a river in a heavy rainstorm, the water threatening to spill over the banks._

_Trying to calm himself and settle his racing pulse and churning stomach, he ran through the speech he had been practicing for weeks in his head. He repeated the words over and over in his mind, but the knowledge that he knew them by heart failed to lessen his anxiety or fear any. He felt almost sick as he crossed the road to his neighbourhood and he pressed a hand to his heaving stomach, gulping in large lungfuls of air through his mouth and willing himself not to throw up in the neat rosebushes lining the sidewalk in the front yard of the house he was passing._

'_You can do this,' he told himself. 'You can tell them this.' He repeated these words in a mantra, hoping to build some courage and strength, but only succeeding in winding himself into a greater state. He wasn't sure if he could do this. He had no idea how his parents would take the news._

_His father was very stern and had high expectations of him, wanting him to be the best at everything he attempted. Blaine could remember messing up one math test and not getting a very high mark, only just scraping an A grade; when he told his father about it he was shouted at for over fifteen minutes and a tutor was hired until his next test when he got his usual top mark again. His father expected him to be perfect, the model son, just like his older brother Cooper and Blaine worried that being gay didn't fit into his father's image of a perfect son. But then again, Blaine was still his son and though they never spoke much outside of discussing school grades and his sporting and musical achievements, he knew his father loved him a lot._

_His mother spent more time with him and often doted on him, baking his favourite cupcakes for him and asking him to play the piano for her and praising him when he finished a song. Like her husband, she had high expectations of her sons, but she was more understanding if they messed up than he was. If either of his parents were to happily accept his sexuality, it would be his mother._

_Blaine's pulse pounded loudly in his ears when he reached his house and came to a stop on the sidewalk outside it, taking a moment to have one last attempt at calming himself down before he entered the house. His hands shook as he reached up to adjust the strap of his satchel and his palms were damp with sweat. The house looked serene under the cloudy sky and everything from the gleaming front door to the grass on the front lawn was pristine and orderly. The cool February wind ruffled the trimmed hedges and caused Blaine to shiver and tuck his hands into the pockets of his coat. His father's car was parked in the driveway – home from work early as he always was on a Wednesday – and he knew both his parents were inside, probably discussing his father's day at the office whilst his mother started to prepare dinner._

_He didn't know how long he stood there steeling himself, but there was no point in standing there any longer; it was time to face the music._

_Taking a deep breath, he set off up the path to the front door, fumbling his key out of his pocket with trembling fingers as he did so. He unlocked the door and stepped into the deserted entrance foyer, closing the door softly behind him. Straining his ears for any sound of his parents, he took off his shoes and set them aside before walking onto the cool marble floors. A soft murmuring of voices could be heard from the direction of the kitchen and Blaine guessed his predictions from earlier of what his parents were doing were correct._

_When he entered the kitchen he found his dad sitting at the breakfast bar talking to his mother, who was chopping vegetables for a salad. They both looked up when they heard Blaine approach and broke off their conversation._

_His mother smiled at him. "How was your day?"_

_Blaine stopped when he reached them and gripped at the kitchen counter for support. "It was ok," he mumbled._

_His father frowned, always quick to sense his nerves. "What's wrong?" His frown deepened. "You didn't get another poor test result, did you?"_

_Blaine gulped and shook his head, gripping the counter so hard his knuckles turned white._

_The frown lines on his father's face were so deep they looked as though they had been carved into the skin by knives. "Well, what is it then?" he demanded, somewhat impatiently._

_Blaine glanced fleetingly at his mother; she was frowning now, too. "I- I have-" he stammered._

_His father was starting to look annoyed; he hated it when Blaine stumbled over his words, he saw it as a sign of weakness._

"_What is it, Blaine?" his mother asked gently. "Is someone bothering you at school again?"_

_Even through his overwhelming nerves, Blaine still felt a twinge of hurt at her use of the word 'bothering', like all the harassment he suffered at school was nothing. All the bruises, cuts, torn clothing, and humiliation was little more than just an annoyance. Mind you, his parents had no idea about the extent of what he was subjected to at school, they thought he had just been called some names by a couple of students for always getting top grades in class. He didn't want to tell his parents the truth, since his father would be disappointed at how weak he was being and they would want to know why he was being bullied and he hadn't been ready to tell them until today. So he had hidden all the evidence of how bad it was and seeing as how none of the teachers cared enough to do anything to prevent it, they had never found out._

_Blaine shook his head jerkily. "It's not that." Sensing that his father was reaching the end of his tether, he said shakily, "I have something to tell you."_

_His mother nodded in encouragement while his father watched him closely with barely concealed impatience._

"_I-" He fumbled for the speech he had prepared, the one he had practiced in front of the mirror when he was alone in his room and had muttered under his breath to himself as he laid in bed at night, but the carefully prepared words wouldn't come to him._

_He darted his gaze between his parents, his hands still clutching at the counter, his heart thumping erratically in his chest and fear blurring his vision. He swallowed around the heavy, oppressive lump in his throat. "I'm gay," he whispered._

_His parents froze, the mixture of concern and encouragement still stuck on his mother's face, the annoyance and impatience still caught on his father's._

"_What did you say?" his father asked, his voice deadly calm. Blaine had a sudden mental image of a venomous snake hiding still and silent in the long grass, waiting for the right moment to strike and deliver its deadly bite._

_Blaine swallowed again, his mouth bone-dry. "I'm gay," he repeated in a louder voice._

_His mother blinked at him as her face went blank like a canvas suddenly cleaned of paint. His father's expression was unreadable as he stared at him. Blaine found himself crossing the fingers of his right hand as he waited for them to say something._

_Faster than the eye could follow, the snake leapt from the grass and struck. "You're not my son," his father said in a low voice, his tone dripping with venom._

_Blaine staggered back from the counter, his sweaty hands slipping from the smooth surface, the crossed fingers becoming untangled. His stomach was no longer churning uncomfortably with nerves; in fact, it felt like he had no stomach at all, like he was just a hollow shell. He cast an appealing look at his mother, but her face was as cold as if it had been carved from stone and her eyes were full of shame and disappointment._

_His father shook his head at him. "I thought we raised you right, Blaine. We did everything the same as we did with Cooper, but it obviously wasn't enough. We did everything right by you, but you still turned out like this." He waved a hand at Blaine and shook his head again. "You're not an Anderson, you're not my son."_

_Tears clogged Blaine's throat and pricked at his eyes. "D- Dad…" he choked out._

_His father's eyes flashed with anger. "How could you do this to us, Blaine?" he demanded. He raised his voice and Blaine cowered away from him as he appeared to swell with anger. "How could you do this to our family?"_

_Blaine was shaking so hard he was surprised he was still standing upright. "I didn't-" He desperately blinked back the tears turning the kitchen into a wavering blur. "Mom?" he pleaded._

_Jaw tightening, his mother returned her attention to the salad as if her son had never spoken._

_A tear spilled down his face and he raised a hand to wipe it away, wincing as the movement pulled at the healing cuts on his back._

_Realisation dawned in his father's eyes. "This is why those kids at school were calling you names. It had nothing to do with your grades; they all know what you are. The ruined clothes I saw in the trash, the bruise on your face that time, the wincing when you move; that's all because they know about you and your filthy little secret." He inhaled deeply, his eyes narrowing. "Lift your sweater up and turn around."_

_Blaine stiffened. "Wh- what?"_

"_You heard me!" his father roared. "Lift up your sweater and turn around so I can see your back!"_

_Knowing he had no choice, Blaine took hold of the bottom of his sweater and pulled it up to his shoulder blades, before slowly turning to face away from his father. He heard fabric rustle and then footsteps as his father stood up and came closer to him. Blaine tensed up and squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly terrified that his father would hit him. A rough finger traced none too gently over a cut and then circled a bruise and he hissed in pain, his body automatically trying to shrink away from the touch._

_He jumped slightly as his father suddenly spoke coldly from behind him. "You deserved it."_

* * *

**A/N: **The idea for this story came to me while I was watching 'The Woman in Black' (movie version with Dan Radcliffe), but it isn't related to the plot of that at all (just in case you were worried about death). I'm hoping it isn't too slow for the first few chapters as there's a fair bit of backstory that needs to be set up before Kurt and Blaine meet, but there will be Klaine romance! If you've read any of my other stories you'll know I'm a bit of a sucker for the sweet, romantic scenes, so there will be that in this story eventually.

The story will be told from Kurt's perspective and in flashbacks from Blaine (in italics) until a particular point in the story is reached, then it will switch between being told in Kurt and Blaine's perspectives.

Few warnings for future chapters: fairly non-graphic violence and brief, non-graphic mentions of abuse (not severe). If there is anything else I will mention it at the beginning of the chapter.

Obviously this is going to be pretty angsty and I'm hoping I don't get too unbelievable with the situation with Blaine's parents, though it has to be pretty bad for reasons you'll soon see.

I'll shut up now and just thank you all for reading! :)

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex!


	2. Chapter 2

The moving trucks arrived at the house early on the Saturday morning of the move. Kurt had woken to a text from Rachel – whose morning routine started even earlier than the movers – asking him to call her that night as if she was expecting something to happen at the house and she needed Kurt's phone call to let her know it was all ok. Kurt wondered why she didn't ask Finn to call her, but he guessed that she found Kurt more reliable and trusted him to remember to call.

Most of his belongings were already packed away in boxes and cases, ready to be hauled into the truck to take to the new house. He only had an outfit he had picked out for today, some hair and skin products, his bed, and a few other essentials like his toothbrush left out in his side of the basement bedroom that was going to become – what? Someone else's bedroom? A game room? Just a plain old basement where you stored all the stuff that wasn't worthy of a place in the rest of the house? He knew the house had been sold, but he didn't know who had bought it. He supposed he should probably care – this was the house he had grown up in after all, the house in which he'd made many a happy memory with his mom and dad – but he couldn't bring himself to; they could no longer live in this house and knowing who would soon be living within its walls wouldn't make any difference to how he felt.

And he wasn't really sure how he felt. Yes, he had happy memories of here and most of his memories of his mom were in this house, but in the end, it was just a house and his memories would stay with him whether he still lived here or not.

While Finn grumbled about having to get up so early, Kurt quickly showered, did his moisturising routine, and got dressed in what, for him, was a fairly plain outfit: jeans and a red sweater. He was styling his hair by the time his dad appeared to tell Finn to get out of bed and for the pair of them to be upstairs for breakfast in ten minutes.

After packing the last of his things in his suitcase, Kurt stood in the centre of his bedroom and spun around in a slow circle, taking in the room that had been his for as long as he could remember. He hadn't seen around the new house yet as he'd been too busy with school, glee club, and packing, so he had no idea of how his new room compared to this one. He knew it was large and had an en suite bathroom, and he didn't have to share it with Finn, which was a major plus.

Breakfast was rushed and eaten standing around the kitchen counter with the occasional interruption from one of the removal men wanting to know something or another about how they packed everything into the truck. Finn was silent, Burt and Carole were excited and maybe a little stressed, and Kurt was curious – he couldn't wait to see inside the house he had wondered about for so long, to learn the truth behind the weathered wooden front door.

Kurt had never moved before, but it took a lot longer than he expected it to. There was a lot of hanging around watching people move boxes and furniture from rooms, leaving only imprints on carpets and memories of what had previously stood there. He dragged a bored Finn to the Lima Bean with him around mid-morning to kill some time and get some much-needed caffeine.

"Are you still ok with moving to this house?" Finn asked as they sat down at a table.

Holding back a sigh, Kurt stirred his coffee. "Of course I am, it's just a house, Finn, the stories aren't real. We've been over this."

Finn was frowning down at his coffee. "I know that, but..." He hesitated, biting his bottom lip. "What if- what if the stories _are_ real?"

Kurt sat his cup back down on the table and took his time swallowing his mouthful of coffee. "Finn…" he began.

Finn's shoulders hunched, bracing himself against Kurt's rebuff.

"You'll see when we get to the house. Those stories aren't true," Kurt replied gently.

Finn didn't look convinced and remained hunched over his coffee, but he did drop the subject.

When they returned to the house they found that a good proportion of their belongings had been packed up and several rooms now stood startlingly empty with only the echoes of what had once been there. As Kurt walked through his deserted basement bedroom, he thought that this house felt more haunted than the one in the outskirts of Lima. He felt like a ghost of his old self treading the floor of the room that had once been his.

After a few more hours of waiting around with a bored Finn playing games on his phone, the truck was finally packed with all their furniture and all their suitcases were loaded in the cars. Kurt, sick of sitting doing nothing, offered to do the final check of the house and he raced through empty room after empty room, his footsteps echoing off the bare walls and floors.

"Nothing left but an imprint of us," he reported back to his waiting father.

Burt nodded. "Good." He pulled the front door key from his pocket – a lone key now, no longer part of a jingling set hanging on a key ring – and locked the door for the last time. He passed the key to Carole, who placed it on a small metal ring with the back door and garage key, before slipping it into her purse.

"I'll give these to the estate agents later," she said.

Kurt walked over to join his dad, who was standing a few paces back from the front door staring up at their old house. He didn't say anything, just joined him in his silent goodbye to the place they had called home for many years. After a moment, and still without either of them saying anything, they both turned their backs on the house.

Burt and Carole left first in Burt's car with the removal truck following behind them. Kurt and Finn were to follow in the other two cars.

The drive didn't take long and Kurt was soon coasting to a stop outside the old house on Lima's outskirts. A neighbour standing out in their driveway abandoned their pretence of checking their mailbox to send Kurt a look that was almost pitying. When Kurt just ignored them and started to pull bags and cases out of the trunk of his car, he saw them shake their head at him in a way that clearly showed that they thought he and his family were crazy for moving into the haunted house.

Scooping up all the bags he could carry, he trudged up to the house, pausing partway up the once overgrown path (Burt and Carole had visited the house earlier in the week and tidied the weed-infested yard) to examine his new home.

Some of the tiles on the roof were still cracked and mossy, the paintwork was still peeling, the glass in the windows was still slightly dull with accumulated dust and dirt, the walls still looked old and weathered, but the emptiness that had once pressed against the windowpanes was gone, and that – plus the newly tidied yard – made the house look less like something out of a horror movie. Already the stories of ghosts and unearthly presence were looking less believable.

He continued on up to the front door, eager to see inside the house that had intrigued him for months. He ducked out of the way to allow a couple of the moving men past, climbed the steps, and then he was stepping onto wooden floorboards that were warped and shiny with age. He moved further inside the entryway, his eyes darting frantically from side-to-side in a vain attempt to see everything at once.

The wooden floor continued through the entryway to the stairs and then through to what Kurt suspected was a living room at the front of the house. New carpet had been laid on the stairs and the walls had been freshly painted, but everything else in this part of the house was original, from the floorboards to the handles on the doors. His dad had paid people to clean, paint, and re-carpet the house, so there was none of the dust and cobwebs that Kurt imagined had been thriving in the entryway, but the house didn't feel like an old house pretending to be new; it felt like an old house that had just been given a little makeover.

Heavy, shuffling footsteps behind him made him leap off to the side, thinking some movers wanted to pass, but it was only Finn, clutching several cases and looking around nervously.

"It's less…creepy than I imagined," he said after a moment.

Kurt looked at him, fighting back a smirk. "What were you expecting? Skulls displayed on shelves? Dusty suits of armour standing in the corners? Candlelit chandeliers dripping wax from the ceiling?"

Finn didn't seem to notice his teasing. "I don't know what I expected," he replied, his gaze still scanning the hall and rooms leading off it, "but not this. It looks so…normal."

Deciding not to say anything to this, Kurt adjusted his grip on his bags. "Come on; let's find out what rooms are ours."

They started towards the stairs, but before they could reach them Burt appeared, carrying a couple of empty cardboard boxes. Without Kurt having to say anything, he knew what they wanted to know. "Finn, your room is first on the right when you go up the stairs. Kurt, yours is on the far left, just by the door leading up to the attic." And then he rushed off again.

"Don't overexert yourself!" Kurt shouted after him and his dad waved a hand to show he'd heard.

Finn stepped around Kurt and started to climb the stairs with a sudden eagerness that had Kurt blinking at his large back. "I thought you weren't excited about moving here?"

"I still really want to see my new room and I don't have a choice but to live here now," Finn shrugged without looking back at him.

The upstairs landing and hallway wasn't as old looking as downstairs, as it was dominated by the new carpet and paint. Finn disappeared into the first room on the right and Kurt peered into it curiously as he passed by: a fairly large, square room with a window overlooking the front yard and the street, empty except for Finn's bed and a few large cardboard boxes.

Kurt continued down the hall, glancing curiously into each room he passed, until he reached the last room on the left set, like his dad said, by the small door leading up into the attic space. Looking around eagerly, Kurt stepped inside his new bedroom.

The walls were freshly painted in the colour he had chosen and curtains which complemented the shade on the walls hung at a large window overlooking the back yard with its huge oak tree. Doors hid a decent-sized closet and an almost modern-looking bathroom. The room wasn't quite as square as Finn's: there was a shallow alcove on one wall where he could put his vanity and a couple of the walls sloped up to meet the ceiling. He liked it immediately.

His bed, vanity, and some boxes of his belongings had already been brought up, so he dumped his bags and cases in one corner of the room and began to push his furniture into position.

Around twenty minutes later there was a hesitant knock on the door and Kurt looked up from putting away clothes in his closet to see a rather sheepish-looking Finn standing in the doorway. "Hi," he said, walking into the room and looking around. He stopped by Kurt's bed. "I've been looking around the house and gone into all the rooms and-" he broke off, shrugging.

Kurt raised his eyebrows expectantly at him.

"You were right," Finn continued. "It really is just a house." His gaze travelled around the room. "There's nothing weird or spooky and it doesn't feel like those people that viewed the house before we bought it said it felt like."

"None of us ever actually spoke to those people," Kurt pointed out. "All of that was probably made-up, just like all the other stories."

Nodding slowly, Finn let his hand trail absently along the footboard of Kurt's bed. "I feel a bit stupid for believing all of them," he admitted after a while.

Kurt shrugged and turned back to his open suitcase, lifting a button-down shirt out of it and hanging it up. "Most of Lima still believes them, so you're not stupid."

Finn nodded and stood in contemplative silence for a moment as Kurt continued to transfer clothes from his suitcase to his closet. After a minute or two he announced he was going to go and continue unpacking and he left the room, leaving Kurt to work in silence.

Dinner that night was pizza ordered in from the local takeout since no one felt like cooking after the long day of moving. They ate at their kitchen table, which looked a little odd in its new position. The kitchen didn't seem to have been used all that much, and the counters and cabinets, though a bit older than the ones in their old house, looked relatively new.

Kurt had explored the rest of the house after the moving truck had left and had found the downstairs to be as old and beautiful looking as the entrance hall. It was a good deal bigger than their old house in both size and number of rooms and the street it was set on was quieter seeing as how the house was situated at the end of a cul-de-sac.

They worked late into the night unpacking, arranging furniture, and putting things away. By the time Kurt finally collapsed into bed, it was after midnight and he thought he would fall asleep immediately, but he didn't. His bedroom still had that foreign, unfamiliar feel despite having all his furniture and belongings from his old room in it and he was finding it difficult to fall asleep somewhere that still felt strange to him. He was still trying to get to sleep when he checked the clock almost an hour later. Frustrated, he rolled over and started punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape.

There was a sudden thump from above his head. Freezing in the middle of flopping back down onto his pillows again, he glanced up at the ceiling, straining his ears for any further noise. When he didn't hear anything for several minutes, he allowed his tired body to sink back down against the mattress and closed his eyes. It had probably just been the pipework clunking or something.

* * *

_It was the same every day._

_Blaine would wake up to the bleeping of his alarm and drag himself out of bed for another day of torture. He would dress and then go downstairs to the empty kitchen and if the mere thought of food didn't make him feel sick, he would have some breakfast. After a dragged-out walk to school he had to endure a day of goading taunts, hateful slurs, people tripping him up in the hallway, locker shoves, and dumpster tosses – and that was on a good day. Then it was home to a mercifully still empty house to work through his homework in peace until the dreaded door slam._

_His parents had taken to spending more time out of the house since he came out to them because they couldn't stand the sight of him. The lack of time they spent in each other's company suited Blaine fine; he would have preferred no time at all._

_Being around his parents these days was worse than being at school. They had two different settings that they alternated between when they were around Blaine: ignoring him completely or shouting and verbally abusing him about how he was disgusting and a disgrace to the family. Blaine preferred being ignored, but it was really just as awful being treated as though he didn't exist as it was having obscenities screamed at him. He was left to wallow in his own bitter thoughts when his parents pretended that any space he occupied was empty, thoughts of 'if I was straight, they would be speaking to me just now' and 'if I was straight, I wouldn't get harassed at both school and home.' Sometimes those thoughts even drifted towards ending it all – he couldn't live like this, what was the point? – but the knowledge that he would one day be far away from the disapproving glares of his parents and the tormentors at his high school always pulled his mind away from that train of thought. He would be able to start living soon instead of what he was doing now: suffering, surviving, just holding on._

_His school was holding a Sadie Hawkins dance this week and Blaine had stupidly asked his friend Eric to go with him. He honestly didn't know what had made him do it. He and Eric were already badly bullied at school for being openly gay and the pair of them showing up at the dance together, even only as friends, would be bound to attract trouble. The faculty had never done anything about what they suffered at the hands of students at school, so Blaine had no confidence that they would prevent anything from happening at the dance._

_It was the night before the dance and Blaine was sitting at his desk in his room finishing an essay for English. His phone laid on the desk beside him and he kept starting to reach for it, planning to text Eric and tell him that he couldn't go to the dance anymore, that it was too risky, but he never did it._

_At around half past seven he abandoned his essay and went down to the kitchen in search of something for dinner. His parents still weren't home, so he guessed they had gone out for dinner. He didn't know for sure, though, since they never told him about those things anymore._

_After staring in the cupboards and fridge for five minutes with nothing jumping out at him, he ended up just making toast and taking it up to his room. He had just sat down when his phone rang. He knew who it was without even having to look at the screen; only one person would ever phone him these days._

"_Hey, Eric," he greeted when he accepted the call._

"_How's things?" Eric asked._

"_Fine," Blaine replied – he never answered questions like that truthfully, people rarely did – "just working on some homework."_

_Eric hummed in response and then said hesitantly, "Are you still ok for tomorrow night? It's fine if you don't want to go anymore, I'll understand."_

_Blaine opened his mouth to say that he'd been thinking about it and that maybe it wasn't the best idea, but what came out of his mouth was something else entirely. "No, I still want to go. Why should we let a bunch of homophobic idiots rule where we can and can't go?"_

_There was a short pause, then, "You're right," Eric said. "I'll let you get back to your homework; I just wanted to make sure you were still happy to go."_

"_Right," Blaine said._

"_I'll pick you up tomorrow night. See you then!"_

"_Bye," Blaine mumbled._

_As he set his phone down he could have kicked himself for saying that he still wanted to go to the dance. But he didn't know just how much he would regret not telling Eric how he really felt about it…_

* * *

Kurt felt disoriented for a few seconds when he woke up the next morning: he couldn't think why the light was shining into the room differently, why his furniture was positioned differently, or why the walls were painted a different colour. Then he remembered.

He sat up in bed, sighing a little at the boxes stacked against one wall that he still had to unpack, and looked around his new room. It was nice not hearing Finn's snores or having to deal with the questionable smells that sometimes came from his step-brother's half of the room, but a tiny part of him missed his old room; he suspected that was just familiarity.

Slipping out of bed, he checked the time on his cell phone, having not unpacked his clock yet, and found a text from Rachel. Keeping his promise, he had called her last night and let her know that there was no evil spirit waiting to brutally sacrifice whoever dared to live in the house, but she clearly still wasn't convinced that the house wasn't the feature setting in a ghost story.

He rolled his eyes at her text: 'Just checking you're still alive.'

'Are you going to do this every day?' he replied.

His phone buzzed with her reply a moment later: 'Until I get solid proof that your new house isn't haunted.'

Shaking his head at her text, he replaced his phone on the nightstand and quickly washed and dressed before going downstairs to the kitchen, walking a little slower than normal, not yet confident of the layout of the house.

He rummaged through the cupboards to make toast to go with the breakfast he was making and frowned when he pulled out the loaf of bread – there was less than half of it left, he could have sworn…

Footsteps shuffled into the room behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to see his dad entering the room. "Dad," he said, turning to face him, "is this all the bread we've got?" he asked, holding the remainder of the loaf up.

His dad blinked blearily at him, still not completely awake yet. "There was only the one loaf, so, yeah."

Kurt frowned down at the bread in his hands again. "I could have sworn there was more yesterday."

His dad shrugged and began making coffee. "Finn probably ate some as a snack."

Toying with the edge of the plastic bag the bread was in, Kurt walked slowly over to the toaster. "I'll have to tell him to stop doing that," he said. "We'll have to start making daily visits to the grocery store if he keeps eating this much."

His dad chuckled lightly, perking up as the coffee brewed.

Dropping bread into the toaster, Kurt continued to make breakfast. He was just accepting a mug of coffee from his dad when a yawning Finn wandered into the kitchen followed by a much more alert-looking Carole.

"Finn," Kurt said, a hint of annoyance in his tone, "next time you feel like a snack can you not demolish most of the food we need for breakfast?"

Finn looked confused. "What?"

Kurt held up the almost empty bag of sliced bread. "The bread, Finn. You ate almost half a loaf!"

"No, I didn't," Finn protested.

Sighing, Kurt dropped the bread back on the counter. "Well, nobody else did!"

Finn was frowning as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "I'm pretty sure I didn't," he said slowly. "I don't remember eating any bread yesterday…" He paused, his puzzled frown deepening. "But, maybe I did…"

Rolling his eyes at his step-brother, Kurt moved around him to start serving up breakfast. "I can't believe you can't even remember what you ate yesterday." He walked away to give Carole and Burt – who were sitting at the table discussing their plans for the day over coffee – their breakfast, leaving a confused Finn frowning down at his coffee mug.

* * *

**A/N: **I think you all know what's coming next for poor Blainers :(

Thanks for reading and for all the reviews, alerts, and favourites I've received so far!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Happy Glee day! (It's Blaine, bitch!)


	3. Chapter 3

_A steady, continuous beeping was the first thing Blaine became aware of as the fog in his head began to dissipate. There was a few seconds of strange, heavy numbness. Then the pain hit._

_It was a dull, burning pain like a low, dampened fire flickering in his bones and nerves. He couldn't pinpoint any one place where the pain was coming from or where it was worse; he just ached all over. His limbs felt heavy as if they were weighed down with lead and even if he wanted to move them he didn't think he could. His thoughts ran as slow as honey and it took him a while to notice the sharp, sterile scent of harsh cleaning products not quite masking the thick, choking smell of sickness. It took him another few seconds to put it all together: the beeping, the pain, the smell – he was in hospital._

_Gingerly, he opened his eyes and blinked up at the white ceiling. He turned his head slowly to the side; a bolt of pain shot down his spine and he grimaced, which triggered more pain to burn across his face._

_He had no idea how he had ended up here or why. His memory was an empty, black void in his head; the last thing he could remember was finishing his English essay, but that must have been in the morning – hours ago._

_Footsteps approached him, sounding louder than normal as they rang through his throbbing head. The footsteps stopped and in his peripheral vision he saw a nurse checking his drip and the machines by his bed._

"_How are you feeling?" she asked as she flipped though the charts at the bottom of his bed before stepping up towards the head of the bed and peering down at him, looking concerned._

_Blaine tried to open his mouth to speak, but found he couldn't and he simply winced as pain ran down his back in a wave. The nurse nodded and began fiddling with his drip. "I'll give you some more medicine for the pain," she said gently._

_Blaine tried to acknowledge her, to thank her, but he couldn't do anything but lie there and breathe. He could feel the medicine entering his veins, feel the pain slowly burning out to ashes and his eyelids became heavy as drowsiness spread through his system alongside the pain relief. He fell into a drug-induced sleep._

_When he woke some time later he was relieved to find that he wasn't in much pain and was able to move around a bit. Flashes of memory were coming back to him: Eric calling him to make sure he was still happy to go to the dance, picking out an outfit for the dance, laughing at something Eric had said as they stood in the school gymnasium…He strained his memory to try and remember what had happened after all of that, what had landed him here in hospital, but he couldn't remember anything beyond around halfway through the dance._

_Seeing that he was awake, a nurse came over to check how he was and see if he needed anything._

"_Wh- What happened?" he asked her quietly as she checked his cannula._

_She hesitated, her hand stilling on the needle in the back of his hand. "You were attacked," she said in a low voice._

_Blaine struggled to sit up straighter. "When? By who?"_

_The nurse bit her lip. "You had just left a dance at your school and were waiting outside when several older students attacked you."_

_Blaine stared at her, his mind whirring as images came back to him like watching a replay of the events after the dance unfold in his mind's eye…_

_He and Eric were talking happily as they waited for his dad to come and pick them up. They didn't think anything of the footsteps and mutters behind them as Eric checked the time on his phone to see how long his dad would be._

"_Hey, fairy boys!" someone shouted._

_Another angry voice snarled, "You fags can't just come to the dance together. Ruining our night by making everyone watch you two together – it's disgusting!"_

_He and Eric had tried to back away, to get inside the school where the teachers were, but they were surrounded by this point; there was nowhere to run._

_Something else was shouted at them, but Blaine, paralysed by fear, didn't hear it. And then the punches started, followed by kicking, shoving, thumping… Shouts filled the air, but there was nobody to hear and help them. Agonizing pain ripped through him with each hit and he had curled up in a ball on the ground, his hands and arms curled protectively over his head as blow after blow was driven into him. His lungs felt like they were on fire and each breath caused him extreme pain. He couldn't hear Eric anymore, just the thuds of more kicks and punches hitting both of them and snarling voices yelling spitefully that they deserved every hit they were getting._

'_Let this end,' Blaine remembered thinking. 'Please, let it all stop.'_

_But it didn't, and more fists and feet were thrown his way until, eventually, a knock to his head had left Blaine hanging onto the edge of consciousness, the sounds of his tormentors drifting in and out like a badly tuned radio. He thought he'd heard the screeching of tires and the sound of panicked shouts, but he lost grip on consciousness at the point and plummeted down into the dark void…_

_The nurse was looking at him worriedly, patting anxiously at his hand as she asked him if he was ok – a stupid question, really._

_Blaine swallowed with some difficulty. "Where's Eric?"_

"_He's in another ward. He needed to have surgery on a broken arm, but he's recovering well," she replied._

_Blaine nodded; he was starting to feel tired again. "How badly am I injured?" he asked._

"_A couple of broken ribs, a lot of bruising, a mild concussion, and some cuts on your back and arms. You were lucky, it could have been a lot worse."_

_Blaine glanced down and examined his arms properly, seeing multiple shallow cuts and scrapes and numerous large, angry bruises that were deep purple and blue – almost black – in colour. Judging by the pain in the rest of his body, he suspected he looked like this all over: purple and blue blotches like some strange, moving piece of artwork._

"_How long do I have to stay here?" he asked the nurse, his words starting to slur a little with exhaustion._

"_You'll need to stay until we're sure the ribs are healing well and that there are no aftereffects from your concussion." She hesitated again. "Your parents will need to sign your release forms and they haven't been in to see you yet…" she trailed off, looking uncomfortable. After a few seconds of awkward silence she smiled stiffly. "I'll leave you to rest."_

_Blaine watched her walk away and tried not to feel upset that his parents hadn't even come to see if he was ok after nearly being beaten to death. He shouldn't expect them to care. He remembered his dad examining his back on the afternoon he told them he was gay; they probably thought he deserved what he got._

* * *

The house no longer felt foreign to Kurt. Now that they had been living in it for almost a week he no longer had that weird feeling that he was in someone else's home. Everything was starting to become familiar now, from the layout of his new bedroom to the way the front door lock was sometimes a little stiff. Finn seemed to have gotten over his previous worries about the house being haunted and he reacted in the same way as the rest of the family whenever anyone brought it up: saying the stories weren't true and it was just a house like any other.

No matter how many times they said this and despite the fact that they had been living in the house for almost a week and had seen nothing out of the ordinary, the majority of Lima _still_ seemed to believe the stories of ghosts and strange presences. Their neighbours still shot them apprehensive looks when they saw them out in the street as if they were afraid that whatever haunted their house had possessed them, and Rachel continued to text Kurt daily to ask if he had seen anything out of the ordinary. Kurt had no idea how to convince everyone that there was nothing unusual about the house. Nothing he said seemed to sink in.

Since his best friends still believing the stories was the most frustrating for him, Kurt decided to invite Mercedes and Rachel over one day after school so that they could see for themselves that his house was just that – a house.

Lifting up a neat stack of papers on his desk, Kurt hunted around for the biology textbook he was sure he'd left on his desk after finishing his homework last night. He checked the time again and began pushing books aside as he saw he was cutting it fine for getting to school on time. He went through a pile of textbooks slowly, carefully checking the cover of each one even though he had looked through the books already and knew the biology one wasn't in that pile. Glancing at the time again, he blew out a sigh of frustration and set the stack of books down on the desk with a thump; he would just have to go to school without it. Snatching up his satchel, he turned to leave his room when something caught his eye. He strode across the room to a large shelved cabinet. He shouted an exclamation of relief: there, on the bottom shelf on top of a tidy stack of other textbooks, was his biology book.

Grabbing it and stuffing it in his bag, he thundered down the stairs, shouted to Finn that they were leaving now, and flew out the front door. When he was sitting behind the wheel of the car, and Finn had folded his large body into the passenger seat, and they were speeding towards school, he started to puzzle over his search for the textbook – he was _positive_ he had sat it on his desk, he never put books that he needed for class the next day on his shelves.

Still feeling confused, he pulled into a space in the school's parking lot, not hearing what Finn was saying as he climbed out of the car but waving a lazy hand in acknowledgement anyway. The textbook was driven from his mind when he met Rachel and Mercedes at his locker.

"You two still coming over today?" he asked after they had greeted him – Mercedes with a hug, Rachel with her latest pitch on a song idea for Glee.

Rachel opened her mouth, but Mercedes quelled her with a warning look and said, "We'll be there."

Kurt beamed at them as he grabbed his books from his locker. "Great! After today you'll never believe another one of those stupid stories again."

"Aren't all stories based on some level of fact?" Rachel asked. Mercedes nudged her in the ribs with a stern frown, but she ignored it, a triumphant gleam appearing in her eyes as Kurt took a moment to respond.

Kurt inclined his head. "True, but in this case the only fact is that the house used to look a bit like an old haunted house from the outside, but there is not the slightest bit of truth in those stories other than that."

Rachel look stumped for a few seconds, before starting to say something else. Mercedes interrupted her before she could get going. "Just drop it, Rachel. We'll see the house later, save your arguments for then."

Smiling at Mercedes, Kurt walked through the classroom door with her, leaving a slightly put-out Rachel to trail along behind them.

Rachel appeared to stick to Mercedes' words since she never brought up Kurt's house again that day, even on the drive from school when Kurt expected her to launch into a rehearsed tirade. She pestered Finn about doing a duet for glee club instead.

When they arrived at the Hummel-Hudson abode, Finn jumped out of the car and scuttled off inside as soon as Kurt pulled up, muttering vaguely about a video game session with Puck – Kurt suspected he just wanted to get away from Rachel. The rest of them got out of the car and Kurt joined his friends, who were standing side-by-side staring up at the house.

"Coming?" he asked them as he started walking up towards the front door. They nodded and followed on behind him, Rachel looking strangely determined, Mercedes a little reluctant.

Finn had left the front door swinging open and Kurt was glad he didn't have to fight with a potentially stiff lock, which may have spurred a comment or two from Rachel. He stepped into the entrance hall, the heels of his boots tapping slightly against the wooden floorboards. "See? It's just a house," he said to his friends as they followed him inside.

Mercedes nodded slowly, glancing around the entryway and into the rooms she could see with darting eyes. Rachel was also looking around, but her eyes were narrowed ever so slightly and she appeared to be searching for something, like she was expecting to find some piece of evidence that the house was indeed haunted.

Leading the way through to the kitchen, Kurt asked, "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

Mercedes politely declined, but Rachel wasn't paying attention, still searching for that elusive fact behind the stories. Kurt pulled a couple of glasses out of a cupboard. "I'll get you some water, Rachel," he told her and she nodded vaguely at the sound of her name.

After pouring out some water he pressed Rachel's glass into her hand and led the way out of the kitchen and upstairs to his room, passing Finn's closed door – which was issuing copious amounts of bangs and shouts – on the way. He didn't turn around to face his friends until he had set his water glass down on his desk.

Mercedes was looking around his room curiously while Rachel scrutinized it with the air of a judge desperately searching for faults in a seemingly flawless performance. Kurt watched patiently for a moment, before stepping towards them.

"What's the verdict?" he asked levelly.

Mercedes smiled sheepishly at him. "Sorry, Kurt. You were right, I shouldn't have doubted you." She shook her head slightly. "The whole thing is ridiculous when you think about it."

Shooting her a smile, Kurt raised an eyebrow at Rachel. She held her determined posture for another few seconds before huffing out a breath. "Fine!" She threw up her hands in defeat. "As much as I hate to believe that I fell for a load of stories invented by someone with an overactive imagination, I admit I was wrong and you were right." She looked annoyed at the thought and Kurt couldn't help but smirk – Rachel hated being proved wrong.

Resisting the urge to say 'I told you so,' Kurt sat down on his bed. "Now that we've got that out of the way, what do you guys want to do? We could watch a movie or something?"

Still looking a little annoyed, Rachel came over to join him on the bed. "Where do you keep all of your sheet music?" she asked, looking around the room. "We could-"

"Can't we have a break from glee stuff for a while?" Mercedes protested, dropping down beside Kurt. "I vote for a movie."

Rachel huffed again as Kurt got to his feet and padded over to his DVD collection.

"Hey, Kurt," Mercedes said, seemingly struck by a sudden thought. "Do you have that book on essay writing you said I could borrow?"

Abandoning the DVDs, Kurt walked over to his desk. "Oh, yeah," he said. "I set it aside for you this morning." He reached for the book on the top of the stack and frowned, his hand freezing – the essay book was no longer there. A wave of déjà vu from that morning hit him as he flipped through the pile of books and searched the rest of his desk. Like this morning, the book wasn't there.

Spinning on his heel, he strode across the room to his shelves and looked through the books there, but still not finding the book he could distinctly remember placing at the top of the pile on his desk that morning. Frustration building inside him, he straightened up and scanned his room, looking for other possible places where the book may be but coming up with nothing.

'Finn,' he thought and he headed for the door. He couldn't imagine Finn borrowing the book, but it seemed stupid not to ask him.

"Kurt?" Mercedes called after him as he strode out of the room. He marched down the hall and pushed open Finn's door after knocking once.

"'Sup, dude?" Finn asked, barely glancing away from his video game.

Kurt's gaze landed on Finn's small, untidy stack of school books and he hurried over to search through them. "Have you seen my essay writing book?" he asked as he reached the bottom of the pile. He shoved the books away from him – it wasn't there.

"You mean your new one?" Finn wondered, frantically mashing buttons on his controller.

Kurt spun eagerly to face him. "Yeah, where did you see it?"

Finn's face was screwed up in concentration as he leaned forward in his chair. "Oh, come on!" he shouted at the screen, throwing up a hand in annoyance.

"_Finn_!"

His step-brother twisted to look at him. "Right, the book, yeah." He absently pressed a button on his controller. "Last time I saw it was when you were using it downstairs a couple of days ago."

Kurt threw up his hands. "Fantastic!" he groaned and marched out of the room, ignoring Finn as he called after him, sounding confused.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Mercedes asked when he re-entered the room.

Sighing, Kurt strode around his room, searching for the book in every possible place. "I can't remember where I put that book you wanted." That wasn't true, he remembered _exactly_ where he had put it, it just wasn't there anymore and he had no idea why.

"Oh," Mercedes shrugged. "Don't worry about it; just give it to me another day when you find it. I know things sometimes go missing when you've just moved house."

"Right," Kurt replied vaguely. He gave up on his search of his room when the book still hadn't shown up.

Rachel was rummaging through his movie collection. "Do you guys want to watch _The Sound of Music _or _Chicago_?"

"I vote for _Chicago_," Mercedes said enthusiastically.

"Kurt?" Rachel looked over at him, two slim DVD boxes in her hands.

His mind still on the missing book, Kurt shrugged. "I don't mind."

Replacing one of the DVDs, Rachel jumped to her feet. "_Chicago_ it is!" she informed them happily.

Kurt tried to forget the book which was probably, as Mercedes had said, lying around somewhere, misplaced in the move, but his mind kept returning to it. He was positive he had placed it on his desk, yet there was no sign of it anywhere. Twice in one day books had moved from where he was sure he had left them, was this purely coincidence? Or something more?

* * *

Kurt was still puzzling over his missing book when he went to bed that night. After Rachel and Mercedes had gone home he had searched the whole house fruitlessly for his book, but it appeared to have vanished into thin air.

He rolled over onto his back and stared up at his dark ceiling, trying to stop his mind from thinking of other possible locations of his book so he could sleep, but the harder he tried, the more awake he felt. Sighing in frustration, he rolled over again and curled up into a more comfortable position and waited for sleep to come.

A thud broke the silence of the house and Kurt's eyes flew open. He lay frozen, his ears straining to hear anything other than silence. There was another, softer thud and he sat up with his heart hammering, pushing his blankets back and sliding out of bed.

Still straining his ears, he tiptoed across his room and prised his door open slowly with his breath held. The hallway beyond his room was dark, silent, and deserted. He stepped out into the hallway, his bare feet making no sound on the carpeted floors, and peered down the hall to see if there was any light escaping from beneath any of the doors, thinking Finn might still be awake and was the one making the noise, but all the rooms appeared to be in darkness.

He crept down the hall towards the stairs, his muscles tensed in preparation to flee at a second's notice. He wasn't sure what he would do if it was a burglar: run back to his room to call 911 on his phone, obviously, but then what? Should he wake someone? Not his dad, he didn't want any strain on his heart. Finn, maybe. He was bigger than any burglar was bound to be. But what if they were armed?

His heart was pounding almost painfully in his chest as he reached the top of the stairs and paused to listen. Nothing.

A sudden, loud grunting snore came from Finn's room and Kurt jumped back from the stairs, his heart racing and his hands quivering. Cursing Finn under his breath, he turned to go back to his room, deciding the noises he had heard must have just been the creaking of the old house. He was halfway to his room when he heard a light clatter like metal being dropped on a hard surface, but the sound hadn't come from downstairs…He froze again, eyes darting around the shadowy hall, half expecting something to suddenly leap out from a dark corner. But he had already searched the upstairs and it was empty except for his family. He paused, listening hard and heard a faint tapping sound that seemed to come from the walls themselves.

'Haunted,' a voice in the back of his mind said.

He shook his head firmly. "There's no such thing as ghosts," he told himself sternly.

He went back to bed but laid awake for what felt like hours listening. The house remained silent and he eventually fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: **My poor, sweet Blainers :( Teaser/maybe-spoiler for later in the story: Blaine is actually ridiculously adorable in this story. As you can imagine he's quite vulnerable and he's small and I just want to hug him. I can't wait to start getting into the Kurt and Blaine interactions.

Speaking of which, the next chapter is a big one in terms of Blaine's backstory and Kurt learning about his house. It should answer a lot of the questions you guys have been including in reviews.

To the guest reviewer who was wondering if I was an _American Horror Story _fan: I've never watched that show, so any similarities between this story and the show are coincidental (feels weird using that word here – there's a bit of a discussion about coincidences later in this story).

Little update if you've read my other story 'Off Camera' and are waiting for the one-shot I promised: I have written about a third of it and I'm hoping to get it finished sometime next week (no promises though as I just agreed to work some extra hours). But it hopefully won't be too long until it gets posted :)

Thanks for reading and for all of the reviews, favourites, and alerts!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex!


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next few weeks the number of Lima residents still believing that the old house on the outskirts of the town was haunted decreased significantly. Like the tales themselves had once done, the truth behind the house spread quickly through the town until barely anyone gossiped about the stories anymore and Lima was once again a boring town with no exciting tales of ghosts and haunted houses to share. Even the people who lived in the street didn't believe the house was haunted anymore. None of them had heard any noises disturbing their sleep during the night in weeks and had passed off the sounds they used to hear as being of a stray animal or some wildlife.

Kurt was beginning to doubt what he knew to be the truth. He didn't believe in ghosts or haunted houses, but something strange was happening in his house and nobody else seemed to notice this but him. He often heard noises during the night, but numerous searches had yielded no potential sources. His belongings kept moving around his room: he would set an item down in one place in the morning, and then find it had shifted when he returned home later in the day. His books kept going missing and then suddenly reappearing days later – the essay writing book that Mercedes had wanted to borrow had turned up on one of his shelves a few days later, even though it had definitely not been there the day he had looked for it. Food was also disappearing and it wasn't all because of Finn's snacking like his dad said when Kurt pointed it out to him.

'Haunted,' his mind kept telling him. 'The stories were true, the house is haunted.'

But Kurt did not believe in ghosts…

"Morning," his dad yawned as Kurt entered the kitchen one Friday morning.

Kurt eyed the mug of coffee on the table in front of him. "That doesn't have sugar in it, does it?" he asked sternly.

"No, Kurt," his dad replied with a sigh. "And it doesn't taste the same because of it." He swirled the coffee around his mug somewhat glumly.

Reaching for a box of cereal, Kurt said, "Yes, well, sugar-free is better for you and you'll get used to the taste soon."

His dad grumbled something indistinct under his breath as Kurt opened the cardboard box and started to pour cereal into the bowl he'd fetched. A small amount of cereal tumbled into the bowl and he paused, frowning into the box. He tilted the box upright again and lifted out the plastic bag containing the cereal. His confused frown deepened when he saw the amount of cereal remaining. The box was only around half full, but yesterday morning there had been about three quarters remaining. He was the only one in the house who ate this cereal, so he knew it was another case of food seemingly melting into thin air.

He was puzzling over this so much that he missed what his dad had just said to him. "Sorry, what was that?" he asked, looking distractedly over at his dad.

"I was just reminding you that Carole and I are going to visit her parents in Indiana tomorrow," he said. He drained the last of his coffee and set his mug down on the table. "We'll be back on Sunday evening." He fixed Kurt with a stern look. "No wild parties while we're gone and I don't want to come back to find the house in ruins – that goes for you as well," he added as Finn lumbered into the kitchen, yawning widely.

"I'm staying at Puck's tonight," Finn announced, accepting the box of sugary cereal Kurt was handing him and pouring himself a large bowlful. "We have football practice tomorrow morning."

Burt looked a little concerned by this. "I forgot about that. Will you be ok here on your own for tonight?" he asked Kurt as he joined him at the table.

"Dad, I'm seventeen," he pointed out. "I think I can manage one night by myself."

His dad still didn't look particularly comfortable. "Well, keep your phone on and I'll call you and check everything's alright." He glanced at Finn as he dropped down into the chair beside him and started shovelling cereal into his mouth. "I'm sure Finn will be happy to come back home if you-"

"Dad!" Kurt interrupted, setting his spoon back in his bowl. "I'll be fine – really."

Burt eyed him for a moment, before accepting Kurt's assurances. "Well, ok, but keep your phone on you."

Kurt nodded and smiled reassuringly before returning to his breakfast. He knew his dad had good reason to be really protective of him, what with his mother's death and his bullying at school, but sometimes it did get a bit tiresome and he would have to remind himself that his dad meant well to stop himself from becoming annoyed.

As he was clearing away his breakfast things a lock of hair fell down onto his forehead. He glared up at it and quickly put away the cereal box Finn had left out on the counter before running upstairs and darting into his bathroom to fix his hair. Cursing under his breath, he scrabbled amongst his things, searching for his hair comb.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered as he moved several of his hair products aside and his comb still remained elusive.

Setting down the bottles he was holding, he ran into his bedroom and yanked open a drawer in his vanity, rummaging around until he found a comb. Crouching down to see in the mirror, he quickly fixed his hair and then jogged back into the bathroom to spritz some hairspray over his hair just as Finn shouted up the stairs that they needed to go or they'd be late.

On the drive to school, Kurt began to make a plan. Tonight he would have the house to himself and he would be able to search it for the source of the noises he heard at night and the reason behind the disappearing food and books without being interrupted. He was determined to get to the bottom of this and he would do it tonight.

* * *

"_Blaine!"_

_Blaine jumped and spun round in his desk chair, his heart pounding. When his body registered what his wide eyes were seeing – that his bedroom door was still closed and he was alone in his room – he relaxed slightly._

"_Blaine!" his dad's voice roared up the stairs again. "Get down here now!"_

_Knowing better than to disobey his father, he got carefully to his feet, wincing at the stiffness and burning from his older, healing bruises and at the sharp, shooting pain from the new ones. He crossed his room slowly to avoid jarring anything and gritted his teeth as he lifted his hand to open the door, the movement triggering intense pain to course through his shoulder from the result of his dad shoving him hard into a doorway in his disgust and anger._

_Taking the stairs was painful as each step shot pain up his spine. It soon wouldn't be possible to see what colour the skin on Blaine's back actually was it was so covered with bruises – bruises from dumpster tosses, locker shoves, being pushed against the stair railings and the edges of desks and countertops, punches, and his dad shoving him around. There were cuts and scrapes on his arms and legs where he'd landed on sharp objects in dumpsters and there was carpet burn on his elbows and forearms from when he'd fallen and skidded across the floor in an attempt to back away from his father when he'd been yelling at him, advancing on him furiously._

_His father shouted on him again as he made his way down the hall to the living room. He sounded furious about something and Blaine wanted nothing more than to just go back upstairs and shut himself in his room with his music and his homework, but he couldn't, he had to face his father. He swallowed as he entered the living room._

_His father was standing by the fireplace, his blue eyes as hard and cold as chips of ice, his face screwed up in anger. His mother sat ramrod straight on the couch nearby, her jaw clenched, and her expression difficult to read._

_Neither of them were looking his way, so Blaine cleared his throat to announce his presence. Both his parents' eyes snapped over to him and he avoided meeting either of their gazes. He felt like they would burn him where he stood if he did._

_His mother was the first to speak. "Sit down, Blaine."_

_Feeling nervous and wondering what this could possibly be about, Blaine moved further into the room and perched on the very edge of an armchair._

_His father sized him up for a moment and then said, "I just received a phone call about you."_

_Blaine blinked, his face scrunching in confusion. Who would be calling about him?_

"_It was from your school," his father continued, his voice deceptively calm in spite of the anger in his expression. "The principal informed me that you haven't been attending all of your classes."_

_Understanding dawned on Blaine and his confusion lifted. "I didn't miss the classes on purpose," he explained. "I was-"_

_His father cut him off. "I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses." He took a step closer to Blaine, his anger now slipping into his tone. "Do you not understand how important it is for you to do well at school? Is it too difficult for you to comprehend that you need good results for a decent college to take you so you can make something of your worthless life?"_

"_Dad, I-"_

_His father ignored him. "There's no way in hell I'm supporting you if you don't get a good job."_

"_I only missed those classes because-" Blaine tried to explain, but was interrupted again._

"_If you're not putting any effort in then you can get out. I'm not paying for the upkeep of a lazy, good-for-nothing waste of space."_

"_I _am_ putting in effort!" Blaine shouted back. "I'm getting top grades in every class!"_

_A vein pulsed in his father's neck. "Don't you _dare _take that tone with me. Show a little respect!"_

_Blaine only just stopped himself from letting out a derisive laugh. _Show a little respect?_ They treated him like a stubborn piece of mould that no matter how much it disgusted them they couldn't get rid of, so why should he have to treat them any better? Sure, they were his parents, but only by blood; real parents didn't treat their children like this._

_He gritted his teeth in an effort to contain some of his anger and frustration. "I would, but you're not listening to me and I'm trying to explain why I had no choice but to miss those classes," he said as calmly as he could._

"_There's no excuse for skipping your lessons other than being at the nurse which we would have been informed of if you had been."_

_His father advanced on him and Blaine slid back in his chair, a small bolt of fear shooting through him. The bruises he had received through his father's actions throbbed._

"_You're lazy, weak, and worthless, Blaine. You've been nothing but a series of disappointments to your mother and me. We raised you well and this is how you repay us? By throwing away your opportunity to get into a good college and deciding to have filthy little fantasies about other boys?"_

_His father was so close now that his spit hit Blaine's face as he seethed in anger. Blaine gripped the seat of the chair to try and prevent himself from trembling and giving away his fear – it would only be another reason for his father to think of him as weak._

"_I'm warning you, Blaine, if I get _one _more call saying you're not putting in effort at school, if you disappoint us again, you'll wish you'd never been born, got it?" his father snarled._

_Blaine gave a tiny nod, his heart hammering in his chest, his muscles tensed almost painfully._

_His father stepped back. "Good." He turned and strode into the kitchen, his mother following him after shooting Blaine a disappointed look. Blaine remained frozen for a moment, his body finally quivering, before he bolted back up to his bedroom._

_Things got worse over the next few weeks. He tried to attend all of his classes, but it was impossible when he got thrown into dumpsters or shoved into hard or sharp surfaces and would have to spend the whole of class time in the bathroom cleaning himself up and tending to his own injuries. He was late home from school one day when a group of boys locked him in the sports equipment shed and several hours passed before he got out again. His dad went mental when he finally got home, accusing him of 'satisfying his disgusting, unnatural urges' instead of coming home. He had screamed abuse at Blaine for over an hour while his mother had just sat and watched on. Blaine spent his days miserable and scared – scared to go to school and scared to be at home, but he had nowhere else to go; anytime he went elsewhere he just endured abuse from his parents when he got home._

_The only relief he got was when his parents were out and he was alone in the empty house. He wished it could be like that all the time, just him on his own, getting himself through life until he could get into college and move somewhere he would never have to see his parents again._

_It all escalated until the limit was finally reached. Blaine was late home from school again – really late. He had gotten a detention for missing too many classes despite him trying to explain that he hadn't skipped them on purpose, and he had been released from it at the same time as the football team were leaving the locker rooms after practice. He had tried to avoid them, he had kept his head down and hurried towards the door as fast as he could, ignoring the jeers and shouts from behind him, but they had caught him and after pushing him around between them like he was a human version of the football they had been training with earlier, they had thrown him into the tiny janitor's closet and locked him inside. Blaine had landed atop a jumble of buckets, tubs of cleaning products, boxes, and mops and had lain there in pain for ages, his leg jammed between a large plastic container and a tub filled with liquid, listening to the sounds of laughter and high-fives fading away and the hallways becoming silent. When the pain receded enough for him to finally move and free his leg, he had been trapped in the claustrophobic closet for what had to have been almost an hour and he fell into a panic about what would be awaiting him at home. He didn't know if the school had told his parents about his detention, but they would have surely told them he had been missing classes again._

_When he was finally released from the closet by the janitor he had limped home, his fear increasing with each painful step he took closer to his house._

_His parents were in the living room when he got home: his mother silent and disapproving, sitting poker-straight on the couch; his father absolutely beside himself with anger, a glass of some strong alcohol in his hand._

"_So," he said dangerously when Blaine limped into the room._

_Blaine remained standing near the doorway, not wanting to get any closer to his father._

"_You are," his father glanced at his watch, "over three hours late." He paused, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Blaine's leg began to tremble._

"_I know that an hour of that was spent in detention for skipping classes again, but the rest of the time?" He shook his head. "I don't even want to know." He drained the last of the dark amber-coloured liquid in his glass, before moving closer to Blaine, whose legs had frozen. "What did I say to you the last time we got a call about you not attending your lessons?" He stopped a few feet away from Blaine. "What did I say?" he bellowed, his face red and blotchy from a combination of rage and alcohol._

_Blaine jumped at the sudden increase in volume of his voice. "I-" he stuttered, his throat dry, his body trembling, his heart racing in his terror._

_In one swift motion his dad raised his arm and threw his empty glass at Blaine, who only just ducked out of the way in time. The glass shattered against the wall behind him, shards of glass hitting his back and arms. His dad snarled something he didn't hear and began advancing on him; Blaine turned and ran._

_With his father bellowing after him, he thundered up the stairs and threw himself into his room. He ran around it, shoving clothes, books, and any other essential item his gaze landed on into his satchel. He sprinted into the adjoining bathroom, his locked bedroom door rattling as his dad – bellowing furiously – pounded on it with his fists. He swept his arm along his bathroom shelf, letting all the bottles and tins fall into his bag, snatched up his comb, toothbrush, and toothpaste, before sprinting back through to his bedroom, closing his bag as he did so. Placing one hand on the lock of his still-shaking door and the other on the handle, he took a deep breath and braced himself, before turning the lock and opening the door. He ducked under his father's raised arm, raced past him, and sprinted back down the stairs. Both his parents were screaming at him as he skidded down the hall and yanked the front door open and something heavy sailed through the air and smacked into the wall near his head. He threw himself out the door, slamming it behind him, and sprinted down the driveway and along the street as fast as he could, ignoring the pain ripping through his leg and back. He distantly heard shouts behind him over the pounding of his heart and gasping of his breath, but he just kept running, swerving off the street onto a smaller one as soon as he could._

_He didn't know how long he ran for or where he was running to, but he just kept going, turning in random directions but making sure that he was still heading away from the house. There was a good chance his parents were racing around the streets in their cars right now, hunting him down, but he didn't want to be found, so he couldn't risk slowing down even though his whole body was in pain and his lungs burned with each breath that sawed out of them._

_It was dark by now, which he was grateful for since it meant he would be harder to find. He stuck to the smaller streets, avoided running through the pools of light cast by the streetlamps if he could. Every time he heard a car approaching he crouched behind a wall or a hedge, where he waited with trembling muscles and panicked eyes for it to pass._

_It was only when the night reached a quiet stillness and he was jogging along a deserted country road that he allowed himself to slow to a walk. He had no idea where he was, but he knew he was miles from Westerville. He had been running for hours and he wildly hoped that his parents had abandoned their search for him by now; if they had even been searching at all and weren't just glad to be rid of him. There were lights in the distance and he walked until he reached them._

_He was on a wide street with large houses set in even larger gardens on the outskirts of some town. The street dead-ended on an old, run-down house with a tangled, overgrown front yard with a battered 'for sale' sign stuck in it. After glancing furtively along the street, he approached the house cautiously. It looked like it had been abandoned for months, if not years: the windows were dirty, the paint peeling, the façade weathered, and the path mossy. He gazed up at the house, thinking carefully._

_He needed to get off the streets before he was caught by the police, or worse, and he needed somewhere safe to hide until he decided what he was going to do next. He shot a quick look around him again, but there were still no signs of life. He walked the perimeter of the house, checking it carefully: there was no sign of an alarm and one of the small side windows had been smashed._

_Making up his mind, he approached the broken window, dumped his bag through it, and then wriggled carefully through it himself, avoiding the sharp edges of the broken glass. Once he was inside he scooped up his bag and looked around._

_He was in a dusty room completely empty except for a large rock lying on the floor – clearly the cause of the broken window. He crept cautiously through the room into an equally dusty and deserted hallway. With his breath held and his muscles tensed for flight, he searched the entire ground floor, finding absolutely nothing. The house had clearly been empty for some time; there was no furniture anywhere, a thick layer of dust covered everything, and there were cobwebs all over the place._

_Knowing the lower floor was too risky for him to stay on, he climbed the stairs, the thick dust muffling his footsteps. The upper floor was just as desolate – empty room after empty room. There was only himself and several dozen spiders here._

_Pulling open the last door in the hall and mulling over which room would be the best to sleep in, Blaine blinked, his thoughts trailing off when he saw what was behind the door: not another room, but a short staircase. He climbed it, the wooden stairs creaking slightly under his weight, and found himself in a reasonably sized attic space. Unlike the rest of the house, it wasn't completely bare: there were a few cardboard boxes stacked in it which, on closer inspection, proved to be empty. A couple of small windows let in some street light, and there was no evidence of rats or water leaking in anywhere. It felt safe and secure, he would be able to hear anyone entering the house, and he doubted he would be found up here; it was perfect._

* * *

If anyone were to enter his house right now Kurt knew he would look absolutely ridiculous and probably just a little bit insane. It was almost ten o'clock and the house was in complete darkness, the only sound the occasional groan of a floorboard beneath his weight as he walked slowly through the house, using a flashlight to see.

He had felt ridiculous preparing for his search of the house – waiting until it was dark outside and late enough that he thought whatever it was he was looking for would be present, since he only ever heard the noises it made during the night. He had turned off all the lights to replicate the house when everyone was asleep and grabbed his dad's flashlight from the garage. He didn't know what he was looking for exactly, just that there was _something_ in this house that disturbed the silence at night and took their food and his books.

Swinging the beam of light from the flashlight in his hand up to sweep along the ceiling, Kurt crept out of the living room into the hallway. After establishing that the ceiling was free of that _something_, he directed the light over to the stairs, moving the beam slowly up them until it hit the ceiling again. He had searched the whole ground floor and found nothing; it was time to move upstairs.

Carefully, so as to avoid making the stairs creak, Kurt climbed, his flashlight creating weird, elongated shadows on the wall beside him and causing him to freeze a couple of times, his heart skipping a beat as he glanced over his shoulder, thinking he had seen something move in the periphery of his vision, but it was only ever a shadow.

He entered Finn's bedroom first after sweeping the landing at the top of the stairs, wrinkling his nose at the jumble of clothes and video games on the floor. Thinking how easy it would be for something to hide in this mess, he gingerly picked his way through the room, toeing aside discarded jeans and shirts and shining the light into every nook and cranny. Just as he was stealing himself to shift a large, lumpy pile of who knew what next to Finn's bed, a soft thud came from above his head and he snapped both his gaze and the flashlight up to the ceiling.

He could have hit himself for being so stupid. "The attic," he muttered to himself. Why had he never thought to look up there until now? It was the best place for something to hide out in and it explained why all of the noises he'd heard during the night had seemed to have come from above his bedroom. He didn't think anyone had been up in the attic since the day they'd moved in when they'd stored a few boxes and crates up there.

Glad to have avoided searching Finn's room further, he hurried out into the dark hallway and along to the low door set at the end just next to his own bedroom door. He paused when he placed his hand on the handle, suddenly feeling more nervous than he had been throughout the rest of his search. He knew it was up there, whatever it was, he could _feel_ it. Call it common sense or call it intuition; he _knew_.

Bracing himself and tightening his grip on his flashlight, he slowly turned the handle and opened the door to reveal the short flight of wooden stairs leading up into darkness. He twisted the end of the flashlight so the light dimmed before starting to climb the stairs as silently as he could with the faint light directed down at the floor.

Nothing jumped out at him when he reached the top, nothing moved, nothing made a sound. There was just a silent attic space, dark save for the faint light from the streetlights outside entering through the two small windows. He could sense something, though. A presence tickled at his awareness and he hesitantly raised his gaze from the floor and lifted the small, quivering circle of light from his flashlight to see the rest of the attic space.

There were the cardboard boxes and wooden crates Finn had put up here the day they moved in, things he had expected to see, but there were a number of things he hadn't expected to find: a satchel, similar to the one he used for school, leaned against one of the boxes and paper, pens, and a couple of books were stacked neatly on top of the box as if it was a desk; a toothbrush, toothpaste, some bottles, and what looked suspiciously like the hair comb Kurt had been searching for that morning laid on top of another box next to a tall bottle of water and a large plastic bowl; clothes were folded neatly on top of one wooden crate, with a couple of hoodies draped over it and shoes lined up in an orderly row on the floor next to it; some food, a plate, and some cutlery sat on another crate and more books were stacked on the floor.

With his heart pounding and the light trembling in his grasp, Kurt's wide eyes took in the pillow and blanket lying on the floor and finally the figure sitting against the wall under one of the windows, reading a book. He couldn't help it – he gasped out loud and the figure moved, leaping to their feet and jumping backwards. The light from one of the windows fell onto the face of a curly-haired teenage boy with panic-stricken hazel eyes.

The flashlight slipped from Kurt's numb hand and fell to the floor with a loud thud.

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, I really did just end it there ;)

So, that should have answered a lot of questions you guys had about Blaine and if it would be Kurt that found him or someone else. From the next chapter onwards the story will be told from both Kurt and Blaine's perspectives - no more Blaine flashbacks.

I laughed at everyone wondering what Blaine is doing with Kurt's school textbooks - you'll find out soon!

Thanks for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Happy Glee day! (Not looking forward to the promo for next week's episode :( )


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt stared at the boy in wild disbelief, questions running through his head so fast they stumbled over each other in his mind. _How long has he been up here? Why is he in our attic in the first place? Is he homeless? He must be, or else he wouldn't be living in the attic of someone's home. Unless he was a criminal on the run…_

He eyed the other boy carefully: he didn't look particularly dangerous, just frightened, and a criminal wouldn't behave like that if they were caught. The boy was small – several inches shorter than Kurt – with large eyes currently filled with fear, and a mop of thick, curly hair. He was barefoot and dressed in rumpled jeans and a creased red sweater, his shoulders hunched slightly in the thin material as if cowering from a blow. The book he had been reading – a worn paperback with a creased spine from having being read numerous times – laid on the floor beneath the windows where he had dropped it. He was backing away from Kurt, looking petrified, his eyes darting around the attic as if he was looking for an escape route, but Kurt was standing between him and the stairs. The boy curled further in on himself, becoming even smaller and more heart-wrenching to look at.

Kurt had no idea what to do or say. Demanding to know who the boy was and what he was doing here seemed rude and would likely scare him even more. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to frighten this boy off or call his dad or the police; he wanted to help him. The boy seemed harmless and looked so vulnerable with his wide eyes, long eyelashes, and curly locks tumbling over his forehead, and he looked around the same age as Kurt, yet here he was, living in a stranger's attic all by himself.

He took a small step forward to pick up the flashlight he had dropped and the boy skittered back again, reminding Kurt of a nervous animal. "I'm not going to hurt you," Kurt said in a low, reassuring voice. "Or call the police," he added as an afterthought.

The boy said nothing and the fear didn't fade from his eyes any. He was no longer looking around frantically; instead his gaze was fixed firmly on Kurt, watching his every move closely.

"Wh- What's your name?" Kurt asked him tentatively, still keeping his voice low and trying not to make any sudden movements as if he really were dealing with a frightened animal.

The boy still didn't speak and Kurt saw the movement of his throat as he swallowed. Licking his dry lips, Kurt set the flashlight on top of a nearby crate and lowered himself to the floor until he was sitting with his legs crossed in front of him. The boy continued to watch his every move, his eyes a warm honey colour in the low light.

Though he desperately wanted to know more about the boy and why he was here, Kurt knew not to press for the information. He cast his eyes around the room, his gaze landing on a couple of pieces of fruit next to the lone plate and tarnished knife and fork. "Are you hungry?" He looked back at the boy.

He was still watching him, looking like he was debating carefully about something. He shook his head, just a tiny movement.

Kurt shifted a little on the hard floor, trying to get into a more comfortable position. His heart squeezed as he looked at the pillow and blanket lying on the floor – this boy slept on the cold, hard floor _every night_. Averting his gaze from his pitiful makeshift bed, he suddenly realised something.

"Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself," Kurt said politely, smiling warmly at the boy. "I'm Kurt." He hesitated for a second, and then continued, "I live in this house with my family."

He waited for a moment to allow the boy to respond if he wanted to, but he didn't, though Kurt thought a little of the fear may have faded from his eyes. He hoped the boy was starting to realise that he wouldn't hurt him or throw him out onto the streets.

He shifted his weight around on the floor again, curling his legs to the side to see if that was any more comfortable – it wasn't. "You know people used to believe this house was haunted. Some still do, actually. They used to tell all these stories to everyone in Lima about ghosts and strange presences. People were terrified to come near it and everyone thought we were insane when we bought it and moved in."

He wasn't sure why he was telling the boy all of this exactly; he was just talking at random, saying the first things that came to mind. He wanted this boy to trust him and the only way he could think of going about gaining that trust was by showing him he wouldn't harm him in any way – he would try to be a friend to him. Maybe he was a little crazy for wanting to befriend the stranger living in his attic, but there was something about this boy, something in his eyes beneath the fear and pain, that made him want to help him.

"My dad never believed the stories and neither did I – there's no such thing as ghosts," he continued. He looked down at the floor in front of him as he spoke, but he could see the curly-haired boy just on the periphery of his vision; he hadn't moved any and was still watching Kurt closely. "Since we moved in here, though, I did start to doubt myself. I heard noises during the night and things were going missing…" The boy stiffened and Kurt quickly carried on talking, not wanting him to think that he was about to be reprimanded. "Now I know that all of that – and all those stories people told – stemmed from you."

He shook his head in disbelief over the whole thing. People would be more likely to believe the ghost stories than the truth: that a teenage boy was living in the attic.

Kurt glanced up at the boy hesitantly. "If you need anything – food, clothes, or whatever – then don't be afraid to let me know, I-" he hesitated again. "I want to help you."

The boy's expression shifted slightly and Kurt saw a brief flash of confusion and something he couldn't quite discern flicker across his face before the uncertainty and fear returned.

Kurt hastened to reassure him. "I know you weren't expecting me to offer that and I know you probably think that I'm lying, but I swear I won't tell anyone you're here and I'll help you in any way I can." He paused and picked at the leg of his jeans. "I don't really know why I want to help you, and most people would say I shouldn't, but I do," he admitted quietly. He lifted his gaze again and he met the boy's eyes for the first time. "I really do."

The boy still looked uncertain and Kurt knew he still feared a trick. It pained him to see the expression on his face, to see the hurt and fright in his eyes – what had happened to him so mistrustful?

The boy shifted slightly, transferring his weight from foot to foot and worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth, looking conflicted. He opened and closed his mouth several times and Kurt froze, watching him carefully and waiting hopefully for him to speak.

"P-Please don't tell anyone I'm here," the boy whispered finally.

"I promise," Kurt said sincerely. He waited, hoping the boy would say something else, tell him his name, maybe, but he didn't. He had wrapped his arms protectively around his waist, his shoulders still hunched over slightly, his eyes fixed on Kurt.

Feeling a little disappointed, Kurt slipped his phone out of his pocket and checked the time – quarter to eleven. His dad had already called him around eight, but he wouldn't put it past him to phone again to make sure he was heading to bed.

"I'm going to go back downstairs." He climbed slowly to his feet, grimacing slightly at the pins and needles prickling up and down his right leg. If his dad did call, he didn't want to answer it up here with this frightened boy; that was bound to start him panicking. "It's getting late."

The boy hesitated again and then nodded slowly.

Kurt picked up the flashlight. "I'll bring up some food for you in the morning. Do you want anything else or anything particular to eat?"

The boy shook his head jerkily, the curls on his head bouncing slightly.

Kurt nodded. "I'll see you in the morning." He bit his lip, his gaze landing on the makeshift bed. He made a mental note to find something better for him. "Sleep well."

He descended the stairs and shut the door to the attic, staring at the closed door for a long moment, thinking about the lonely, scared teenage boy hiding behind it. _How long has he been up there, alone and terrified that somebody would find him?_

Biting down on his lip again, Kurt walked slowly into his room and got ready for bed, his heart heavy. Every simple thing he did, from brushing his teeth at the sink to pulling back the covers on his bed, caused his heart to give a pained jolt; that boy didn't have any of this.

Like he thought he would, his dad called him again to check everything was okay and that he wasn't staying up too late. Kurt stammered a little when he assured his dad that everything was fine, his mind picturing the boy in the attic shying away from him, but luckily his dad didn't seem to notice anything was off. Once he had said goodnight and hung up he curled up under the blankets, a sharp pang of sympathy and sadness shooting through him as he remembered how the boy slept on the hard attic floor. He wanted to go back up there now and give him something better to sleep on, but he knew he should give him some time to recover from being discovered.

He tossed and turned for ages before he finally fell asleep, but it wasn't peaceful. He dreamed Karofsky was hunting him down, chasing him through the hallways of McKinley. He raced along the corridors, his heart pounding and panic filling him as the heavy footsteps chasing him got louder. As he ran, the once apparently endless corridor suddenly ended in a wooden door and he fell against it and fumbled with the handle, almost sobbing. The door swung open just as Karofsky's voice, terrifyingly close, echoed down the corridor.

"You can't hide from me, Hummel!"

Choking back a sob of relief, Kurt darted into the dark room and slammed the door behind him. His panic and fear shot up again as he scrabbled for a lock, his fingernails scraping fruitlessly over wood. Karofsky's laugh came from the other side of the door followed by the loud click of a lock.

"Got you now, Hummel," he sneered menacingly through the door, his voice loaded with the promise of more fear and pain.

Terrified, Kurt looked around to find he was in his attic.

"No…" he muttered wildly. Karofsky laughed again-

Gasping, Kurt crashed out of the nightmare. Fighting out of the tangle of blankets around him, he sat up, panting and sweating as if he really had just been chased along an endless maze of corridors. He looked wild-eyed around his room until his gaze landed on the clock by his bed; he squinted at it – two in the morning.

Once he'd gotten his breath back, and his racing heart had slowed, and the panic had receded, he flopped back down on his bed and tried to clear his mind of the images of his dream still burned into his brain. He glanced up at his ceiling, above which Blaine was, trapped there by his fear of the outside world and his lack of a home, trapped like Kurt had been in his dream, except Kurt could wake up from his nightmare, Blaine couldn't.

It took a while, but eventually he calmed down enough to consider sleeping again and, after shooting one last look up at his ceiling, he closed his eyes, exhaling in relief when he discovered that Karofsky's twisted face was no longer printed on the insides of his eyelids.

* * *

Tilting the water bottle, Blaine tipped a small amount over his toothbrush and into the plastic bowl. When he was done, he set the brush aside on the crate and rinsed his mouth out with some more of the bottled water, spitting the mouthful into the bowl – he would empty it in a sink tomorrow when he went downstairs.

Every day after the house had emptied of its owners, Blaine would venture down from the attic and hurry through the same routine as fast as he possibly could so he could be back up in the attic before any of the family returned home. First he went to the bathroom, where he would empty and rinse out the bowl he used as a sink, before having a quick wash. Next was the kitchen, where he refilled his water bottle and took some food, careful to make sure he only took small amounts from nearly full boxes and packets to minimize the risk of the missing food being noticed. Some days, once he had put all the food up in the attic, he would nervously enter the bedroom next to the door leading up into the attic and borrow a book, usually a school textbook.

He used them to keep up his education as best he could, and always returned them once he had finished reading them. Sometimes he also borrowed novels, which helped to pass the time as well as giving him an escape from his confined, lonely life.

He glanced over at the small pile of clothes on a nearby crate, debating whether it was warm enough to get away with sleeping without a hoodie on. Deciding he would be fine in just the sweater he was wearing, he walked over to his bed, pulled back the blanket, and laid down on the thin blanket that he used as a mattress. The blanket didn't make the floor any more comfortable, but it did offer him some protection from the chilly floorboards. He punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape and tugged the blanket up around him.

Now that he was in bed and had nothing else to occupy his mind, his thought drifted to the teenage boy who had found him hiding out in his attic – Kurt. He had never seen the owners of the house before and whenever he thought about them, when he sat reading his books and listening to the faint sounds of them moving around the house, he had imagined people similar to his parents, people who would just call the police the second they laid eyes on him and demand he be thrown into a detention centre or something. He never expected there to be someone like Kurt, someone who seemed to actually want to help him, someone who didn't judge him on first sight, but perhaps wanted to learn his story.

Once or twice when he had been lying in his poor excuse of a bed and staring blankly at the wooden beams holding up the roof above him, he had fantasized wildly about someone finding him, understanding the situation he was in, taking him away from this attic, helping him to get the life he had always dreamed of having, one that wasn't full of abuse or ruled by his parents. But even in these wild, impossible daydreams he had never imagined the person that found him would be like Kurt.

Though the light had been poor, Blaine had still been able to see that Kurt was beautiful. He had just been able to make out pale skin, coiffed hair, and gorgeous blue eyes. His voice was beautiful as well, extraordinarily so: higher than most males', but smooth, flowing, and musical. And Kurt hadn't immediately called the police or ran away from him; he had spoken to him and said he wanted to help…

A part of him really wanted to trust Kurt, to believe his promise that he wouldn't tell anyone about him, but that part was overridden by a much larger and stronger part that didn't trust anyone anymore. He couldn't afford to trust Kurt; he could tell anyone at any time, he had no reason not to – why should he protect the teenager hiding out in his attic? If he had somewhere else to go and didn't get overwhelmingly nervous at the thought of leaving the house that had been his safe haven for over six months now, then he would leave now before Kurt got the chance to tell someone, but he couldn't. He had no choice but to hope that Kurt would keep his promise and not breathe a word to a single soul. For the first time in over a year he had to rely on another person.

* * *

**A/N: **Here's the chapter I planned to post yesterday but forgot to send to my beta in time - oops. It's quite a short one, but that's just the way things worked out and I think it is going to be the shortest chapter of the story.

I just finished listening to the music for this week's episode of Glee and if you know anything about the episode you can imagine my emotional state right now, so I can't think if there was anything else I needed to say here.

Thank you for reading and for all of the reviews! It makes my day to hear from you guys!

And thank you once again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter should be posted before the weekend, hopefully before Glee on Thursday.


	6. Chapter 6

A numb arm and an aching hipbone woke Blaine the next morning. With a groan he rolled onto his back and shook his dead arm out to try and regain the feeling in it. It was like this every morning: he would wake up to pain in some part of his body – often his lower back – and sometimes a numb arm or leg. The first night he had slept here he had woken multiple times through the night in pain and with a stiff back and it was a few weeks until he stopped gaining new bruises every night. He had gotten used to sleeping on the hard floor now, but it still remained extremely uncomfortable and he knew it wasn't good for him to be sleeping like this every night, but what choice did he have? At least he had a roof over his head and wasn't freezing out on the streets somewhere.

With pins and needles prickling in the fingertips of his previously numb arm, he sat up and stretched, arching his back and hearing the joints and vertebrae crack. Giving his arm another shake, he stood up and shuffled over to the box with the bowl he used as a sink. Unscrewing the cap on the bottle of water he cupped his left hand over the bowl and poured some water into it which he then rubbed onto his face, washing the sleep from his eyes and waking him up. He was just drying his face on a small towel when there was a hesitant knock at the attic door. He froze, panic starting to build inside him.

The door creaked open. "Hello?" a familiar voice called. Blaine's panic faded a little; it was Kurt – and of course it was him, who else would have knocked on the door instead of just walking straight up?

"Are you awake?" Kurt asked, his voice uncertain. "Um, is it ok if I come up?"

Blaine set the towel down. "Y-yeah," he responded, his voice rough from sleep and lack of use.

There was the sound of the door closing, followed by footsteps and then the stairs groaning slightly, before Kurt came into view carrying a tray filled with food and with a bundle of fabric tucked under one arm. He smiled when he saw Blaine. "Morning," he greeted him, setting the tray down on a nearby box and dropping the bundle under his arm into a soft pile at his feet. "I brought you some breakfast." He indicated the tray.

Blaine didn't look at the tray of food; he couldn't take his eyes off of Kurt. He had known the other boy was beautiful after seeing him last night, but now that he was seeing him properly in daylight he realised he was wrong; Kurt wasn't just beautiful, he was breath-taking.

His skin wasn't just pale, but smooth, flawless, and soft looking – Blaine was filled with the sudden urge to raise a hand and caress Kurt's face to see if the skin was as soft as it looked and he had to stuff his hands into the pockets of his pants to stop himself. Kurt's hair was swept up into a stylish coif like it had been last night, but now Blaine could see streaks of blonde in the soft chestnut locks and the fine hairs on the back of his neck. And his eyes weren't just blue, but a stunning mix of blues, greens, and greys that Blaine supposed could be compared to the ocean sparkling in the sunlight, but that was like comparing a blade of grass to a rose. And then there were the details Blaine hadn't really noticed last night in the dim light: Kurt's pink lips; his long, slim legs clad in tight jeans; the stylish outfit; and his well-defined jawline.

His gaze returned to Kurt's face and he realised that the other boy was looking quizzically at him, no doubt wondering why Blaine was staring at him. He reined his emotions in, hoping his thoughts weren't visible on his face and finally looked over at the tray of food. There was a bowl of cereal he recognised from having eaten some a couple of days ago, some toast, a glass of orange juice, a few small containers of yogurt, and a selection of fruit.

Kurt shrugged. "I wasn't sure what you would like, so I took a bit of everything we have." He pushed the tray across the box so it was closer to Blaine. "Please eat as much as you want, you must be hungry."

Blaine walked over to the box the tray rested on and, after a slight hesitation, sank down to sit on the floor beside it just as Kurt sat down a short distance away with his back against a wooden crate.

"Thank you," Blaine said quietly.

The corners of Kurt's mouth lifted in a small smile. "It's nothing. Like I said, I want to help you. I hate the thought of you up here all by yourself, cold and hungry." He smiled encouragingly at him as he took a sip of the orange juice.

Lowering his gaze to the tray in front of him, Blaine felt a strange sensation inside him when he noticed the small jug of milk by the bowl of cereal and a little dish with an array of jellies on it sitting by the rack of toast – Kurt had thought of everything. He poured milk onto the cereal, picked up the spoon, and took a mouthful, suddenly realising how hungry he actually was as he swallowed the first spoonful.

Peering up at Kurt through his lashes as he ate, he watched the other boy tug the bundle of fabric towards him.

"I brought you this as well," he said, unrolling the bundle to reveal a large, thick blanket. "It must be uncomfortable sleeping on this floor and it can't be good for your back." He eyed the blanket critically, rubbing it between his fingers as if testing the thickness. "I thought you could use it as a mattress." He looked over at Blaine who was now watching him indiscreetly and shrugged again, looking a little worried. "It was the best we had."

Blaine stared at him, his breakfast momentarily forgotten. He guessed Kurt was worried that the blanket was inadequate; he didn't realise how stunned Blaine was that somebody was doing this for him, that somebody was concerned enough about him to bring him something better to sleep on. Nobody had cared this much about him in years.

"Thank you," he said again, putting as much sincerity and gratitude into the words as he could. "You- it's perfect." As soon as he finished speaking he dropped his gaze back down to the half-finished bowl of cereal in front of him and continued eating.

He had almost said 'you don't know how much this means to me'. That was too much, he barely knew Kurt and he only trusted him a little because he seemed to have kept his word so far and hadn't told anyone, plus he had told Blaine he would bring him food today and he had done. He appeared to really want to help him.

"You're welcome," Kurt said in a brighter voice.

Blaine finished his cereal and started on some toast, spreading some raspberry jelly onto a slice before taking a bite, his stomach rumbling gratefully in appreciation of the most food he had eaten for one meal in months. He snuck a peek at Kurt as he took another bite of toast to find the other boy watching him with an unreadable expression on his face. He shook his head slightly when he noticed Blaine looking at him.

"I can make you some coffee if you want," he offered.

Blaine shook his head. "No, thank you," he declined quietly. He was tempted by the offer of coffee, but Kurt would have to leave to go make it and what if he returned with someone to force Blaine out of the house? What if all of this – the breakfast, the blanket, the caring – was all a ruse to make it easier for him to be thrown out of the house? He wanted to trust Kurt, he really did, but instinct from months of living in the attic alone and from the abuse he used to receive at home and school brought up all those questions and doubts and made it extremely difficult for him to trust anyone.

Kurt just sent him a small smile. "Ok."

There was a short pause as Blaine ate more toast in between sips of orange juice and Kurt stared down at his denim-clad knees, drumming his fingers against them and nibbling unconsciously on the inside of his bottom lip.

"My dad and step-mom are out of town until tomorrow night – they left yesterday morning – and my step-brother stayed at a friend's house last night and isn't coming home until this evening," Kurt said suddenly.

Blaine looked up from his toast, frowning slightly in confusion – why was he telling him this?

Kurt shrugged as if he had heard this. "I would never admit this to anyone else, but I was actually a bit nervous about being here alone at night. I'd been hearing noise during the night," he inclined his head at Blaine, "they must have been you moving around, and I was starting to doubt what I had been insisting to all my friends and even my step-brother: that this house isn't haunted." A small smile crept onto his face. "I was determined to try and discover the source of those noises, despite my nerves. I switched off all the lights and crept through the whole house in the darkness with a flashlight trying to find that source." His eyes met Blaine's, their gazes connecting for only a second or two before Blaine looked away, his gaze skittering nervously back to his breakfast tray.

"I never expected to find you," Kurt continued softly. "Never."

A different kind of nerves and uncertainty swirled through Blaine and he swallowed, his fingers trembling slightly. He reached for his glass of juice and took a long drink for something to do with his hands and to give him time to try and regain his composure, hoping the sweet liquid would wash away these new feelings.

If Kurt noticed his slightly flustered demeanour then he never reacted to it. "My friends would have loved to have seen me tiptoeing around my own house last night," he said, his voice no longer soft, but back to its previous casual, conversational tone. "They had to look around the house before they realised all those stories they had believed for months were a load of crap and then there was me, creeping around my own home, shining a flashlight into every nook and cranny and jumping at shadows." He laughed lightly, shaking his head at himself.

A small spark of the feelings from earlier returned at the sound of Kurt's laughter and Blaine averted his eyes again, fiddling with the rim of his empty glass. He stared down at the glass as Kurt continued to tell him about his friends and family as if they were friends meeting up for coffee or something instead of two people who barely knew each other sitting in an attic the morning after meeting under very unusual circumstances.

"Blaine," he said quietly, lifting his gaze to look at Kurt again.

Kurt broke off mid-speech. "-and I- what?"

Blaine swallowed. "My name is Blaine," he said in a louder voice.

Kurt's face lit up in a bright smile. "Blaine," he repeated.

Suddenly feeling awkward, Blaine shifted his weight and placed the glass back on the tray.

The soft thud of the glass being set down seemed to draw Kurt's attention to it. "I'll bring you food every day as often as I can," he promised. "I couldn't handle knowing you're up here feeling hungry."

There was a buzzing noise and Kurt jumped, slapping his hand to the pocket of his jeans. He pulled a cell phone out of the pocket, amazing Blaine who didn't think the jeans would allow for things like phones, they seemed much too tight. "Shoot," Kurt muttered under his breath. His fingers began tapping out a text. "I forgot I was meeting Rachel and Mercedes for coffee this morning – they're my friends," he added, glancing over at Blaine. He finished sending the text and got to his feet, shoving the phone back into his pocket.

"Sorry," he said to Blaine as he walked over and picked up the breakfast tray. "I'd better go and meet them. I'll come see you again when I get back."

Blaine nodded in acknowledgement. It didn't bother him that Kurt was leaving; he was starting to feel a little antsy with being around another person for so long and could do with some time to himself. He wasn't used to being around people; it had been so long since he'd had anything but his own company.

Kurt started to head for the stairs, pausing a few feet away from them. "Feel free to go down into the main house while I'm gone. I know you usually-" he broke off, his cheeks turning pink. "I'll see you when I get back." He smiled at Blaine before turning and heading down the stairs, closing the attic door behind him.

Blaine stared at the top of the staircase leading down to the door as he listened to the faint sounds of Kurt walking away. The attic felt empty now that Kurt was gone, which was a strange feeling that Blaine had never experienced before. Yes, he was alone up here, but it had never felt like there was something missing. Shrugging off the feeling as just a slight unsettled reaction to being around someone after months of being alone, he wandered over to one of his stacks of books and picked out the paperback he had been reading last night when Kurt had found him. He went to sit down on his bed with it but paused when he remembered the blanket Kurt had brought him.

He scooped it up tentatively, catching a whiff of something that somehow both soothed him and made his stomach squeeze in a way that was unfamiliar to him. It was thicker than any of the other blankets he had and he knew it would make for a much better mattress than the one he was currently sleeping on. He spread it out on the floor and carefully placed his own blanket and pillow on top of it, realising as he did so that he now had an extra blanket to use on cooler nights which meant he wouldn't need to go to bed wearing every sweater and shirt he owned.

When he settled down with his book on top of his newly improved bed a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at how much more comfortable it was. It wouldn't be possible for him to ever thank Kurt enough for this. He was a complete stranger to the other boy, yet he had fed him, given him a blanket so he would be more comfortable, and been friendly towards him. He could have been a criminal, mentally unstable, or had some contagious disease, yet Kurt had trusted him and done all of this for him. He could barely believe this wasn't a dream and that Kurt wasn't some wonderful, perfect boy that his vivid imagination had conjured up to alleviate the pain and loneliness of his life. But with the thick blanket making the floor comfortable to sit on, a belly full of food, that trace of comforting scent in the air, and a spark of warmth and hope inside of him, he needed no pinch on the arm to know that Kurt was no dream.

* * *

"Kurt, are you even listening?"

Blinking, Kurt looked up from where he had been staring unseeingly down at his coffee cup to meet Rachel's exasperated gaze. Next to her, Mercedes was frowning at him, looking a little concerned.

"Are you ok?" Mercedes asked. "I know Rachel's monologues on which solos would best show her talent at Sectionals are mind-numbing boring, but you aren't normally this spaced out."

Picking up his coffee, Kurt took a sip to prolong the time he'd have to respond, his mind considering and discarding several excuses, until he set his coffee back down. "I'm just tired; I didn't get much sleep last night."

This wasn't a complete lie. He had slept pretty poorly between thinking about Blaine and that nightmare with Karofsky, but that wasn't the reason he had barely taken in a word either of his friends had said since he had finally rushed into the Lima Bean over half an hour ago. He couldn't stop thinking about Blaine; how such a polite, vulnerable-looking teenage boy had ended up eking out a meagre life in his attic. He wondered where Blaine's family were or if he even had any, if he had any friends anywhere, if anyone even cared where he was, or had he just disappeared silently off the face of the Earth? At some point he must have had a home, a family, and friends; he must have gone to school and had teachers and classes he liked and others he hated. Maybe he played a sport or maybe he was musical, maybe he was in a club or a team. Lots of people must have known him; nobody was completely invisible no matter how much people may think it at times. Did _nobody_ really look for him? Was he really completely and utterly alone?

Swallowing thickly against the tears choking his throat and blurring his vision, he forced himself to listen to what Rachel was saying.

"-must be hard for you, but this is important," she insisted, laying a hand with the fingers splayed on the table next to her coffee as she leaned imploringly towards Kurt.

Not in the mood to argue, Kurt just smiled weakly. "Sorry." He lifted his coffee. "I think the caffeine is starting to kick in now."

Rachel smiled and nodded briskly, happily accepting his response. She sat back in her chair and opened her mouth, preparing to launch into yet another self-debate, but Mercedes spoke up before she got the chance to start.

"I think it's more than tiredness," she said, peering worriedly at Kurt's face. "You look a little…strange. I'm not quite sure what it is, you just look…" she trailed off, her frown deepening.

Kurt bit back an agitated groan as Rachel started scrutinising him, her face drawn into lines of concern. Of course Mercedes would choose today to be extremely perceptive.

"I'm fine," he told them firmly. "Like I said, I'm just tired." When neither of them looked likely to drop the issue, he sighed and added. "I had another nightmare last night and I just keep thinking about it."

These words did the trick; his friend's expressions both cleared a little as they made sympathetic noises and asked what his nightmare had been about.

Toying with his almost empty coffee cup, Kurt described his nightmare of Karofsky chasing him along an endless series of corridors into a dark room where he felt a short moment of relief until he was locked inside it and he realised Karofsky had him trapped for good. He deliberately avoided mentioning that the room he was locked into was his attic and that the stimulus for the nightmare was Blaine.

Rachel reached across the table and placed a hand on top of Kurt's. "Oh, Kurt," she said gently. "I'm sorry, that sounds awful, but you know he'll never get you alone, we'll make sure that never happens – us and the rest of Glee club." Mercedes nodded adamantly at her words.

Kurt smiled and nodded gratefully as Mercedes and Rachel continued to assure him that he was safe from Karofsky and suggested things to help him with the nightmares. The nightmare _had_ bothered and upset him, but it was the least of his worries just now. He was far more concerned for the curly-haired boy in his attic.

* * *

**A/N: **Yay for Blaine starting to trust Kurt a little more! :)

This update is later than I thought it would be and I'm sorry if you were hoping for it sooner, but my beta and I are really busy and it's not going to be easy to stick to any sort of regular updating schedule. I'm going to try and update as regularly as I can and I'll never go longer than a week between updates, but I can't promise twice weekly updates for every week. This chapter is actually unbeta'ed as my beta hasn't got back to me yet and I really wanted to post a new chapter by today.

A lot of shit went down in the last episode that I'm not going to start getting annoyed or worked up about again, but I'll just say that no matter what happens on Glee over the coming episodes I'm still going to continue writing Kurt/Blaine stories until I run out of ideas (which isn't happening any time soon) or readers. In the end, I'm not writing the show: I'm just writing stories about two characters I love using my own plots. Also I strongly believe Kurt and Blaine are endgame :)

So now that's over with I just thought I'd mention that I have my next multi-chapter Klaine story roughly outlined – yes, already. I got the inspiration from, of all things, an advert I saw on the TV (if you're from the UK: the new John Lewis advert). I'm a long way from starting to write it, but I'm excited for it :)

Thank you for reading and for all the lovely reviews! :)


	7. Chapter 7

When Kurt finally bid goodbye to Rachel and Mercedes over an hour later, he hurried home, racing through Lima to the cul-de-sac on the outskirts, only just barely keeping to the speed limits. As soon as he let himself into the house, he went into the kitchen and gathered a selection of food and drinks for Blaine, carrying them upstairs and into the attic.

He spent the rest of the day in the attic with Blaine, only leaving to make dinner since he knew Finn would soon be arriving home. He and Blaine didn't say much during the time they spent together; he mostly just sat reading while Kurt worked on his homework, but it didn't matter that they sat on opposite ends of the attic in silence. It wasn't strange. Kurt just wanted Blaine to get used to being in the company of other people again and he knew the other boy appreciated it without him having to say so.

Finn arrived home from Puck's house while Kurt was in the middle of making dinner. He shuffled up to the stove and peered into the pans of spaghetti and sauce.

"I know I eat a lot, but that's a bit much even for me," he observed, reaching for the spoon in the pan of sauce.

Kurt slapped his hand away. "Why is everyone being so perceptive today?" he demanded of no one in particular. "Usually I can go days with people barely talking to me and now everyone is suddenly questioning everything I do." He pushed at Finn's arm until the taller boy moved, feeling annoyed and a little bit panicky – what if someone found out about Blaine? What if people started to get too suspicious and he would no longer be able to visit him in the attic? He knew Blaine had been living up there for some time managing perfectly well by himself, but now that Kurt knew he was up there he couldn't rest knowing that the boy thought no one cared about him, thought he was just invisible.

Finn held up his hands in surrender and backed slowly away from Kurt. "Sorry, man, I was just wondering."

Knowing he would just snap again, Kurt chose not to reply and instead silently finished cooking the dinner before serving up portions for himself and Finn, leaving the rest in the pans to take up to Blaine later.

When Kurt set Finn's food down in front of him, his step-brother opened his mouth to say something, his eyes on the remaining food. Kurt sighed. "Just eat your dinner, Finn."

They ate in silence, Finn occasionally lifting his gaze from his plate to glance curiously between the food on the stove and Kurt, who pointedly ignored him. When they were finished and Kurt started to clear up, Finn hovered uncertainly by the kitchen table.

"Um…" Finn fidgeted with a wooden spoon on the counter.

Kurt sighed again. "Just go play your video games or something; I'll clear up."

"Yo- You sure?" Finn asked, looking hopeful, but not making a move to leave the kitchen; he obviously felt like he should be doing something to help seeing as it was just the two of them here.

Dredging up his remaining patience, Kurt sent Finn an encouraging smile. "Positive." He just wanted Finn to go shut himself in his room and become deeply absorbed in his virtual reality so he could go and bring Blaine his food.

Finn didn't need telling again; he shot off upstairs, leaving Kurt to hurry through tidying up the kitchen and washing the dishes. He loaded Blaine's food onto a plate and put it onto a tray along with a drink and some cutlery and carried it upstairs. He tiptoed unnecessarily passed Finn's closed door, through which muffled booms and yells could be heard, before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway and entering the attic space, calling out a greeting to Blaine.

Blaine looked up from the book he was pouring over, the small crease between his eyebrows smoothing out when he saw Kurt. "Hi," he said quietly.

Kurt smiled widely at him as his heart gave a leap of happiness. To most people this would seem such a trivial thing to get so happy about, but it was a big deal to him: this was the first time Blaine had greeted him. It showed that the other boy was becoming more comfortable around him and maybe, hopefully, on his way to trusting him.

"I've brought you some spaghetti for dinner," Kurt told him, setting the tray down on a box. He then moved away, knowing Blaine got nervous when he was too close to him. He sat down in his usual spot with his back against a crate and watched Blaine close his book and walk over to the food, settling down on the floor by the box it rested on.

"Thank you," he said, meeting Kurt's gaze for a fleeting second before lowering his eyes to the tray in front of him, picking up his cutlery, and starting to eat.

Kurt shifted slightly on the hard floor. "You're very welcome." He sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes as Blaine ate, thinking about how both Mercedes and Finn had noticed him behaving differently because of Blaine. "People were being very perceptive today," he told Blaine. "Mercedes noticed I was acting off when we had coffee this morning and Finn made a comment about the amount of food I made for dinner. I think he knew I was up to something."

There was a clattering sound and Kurt looked over in the direction it had come from. Blaine was staring at him with fear on his face, his hand still outstretched over his plate but his fork now resting on the edge of the plate, clearly having fallen from his grasp.

It took Kurt a couple of seconds to understand what had caused this reaction in Blaine. "Oh, no, Blaine, you don't have to worry," he assured him hastily. "I promised I wouldn't tell anyone about you and I won't break that promise. I'm good at deflecting, I had to be when I- I wasn't always completely honest with my dad, so I've had plenty of practice. I don't like lying to my family, but I'll do it for you."

Blaine watched him apprehensively for a moment longer, before nodding and picking up his fork again, the sincerity in Kurt's words seeming to have convinced him that Kurt wouldn't tell anyone.

There was another long silence as Blaine finished eating. Kurt – cursing himself for being so careless with what he said to Blaine – picked at the leg of his jeans, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make Blaine fear for his safety. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice that Blaine was standing in front of him until the other boy cleared his throat.

"Um…" Blaine looked nervous again and his cheeks were stained pink. He held out a book to Kurt. "Th- This is yours, I borrowed it a few days ago," he stammered in a low voice, his gaze fixed on the book in his hands, avoiding Kurt's eyes.

Kurt glanced down and saw it was one of his English textbooks – he hadn't even noticed it was gone. "Oh." He reached out and accepted the book. "So- So, you're-" He broke off; he needed to choose his words carefully. "This explains why some of my books have gone missing for a few days at a time."

Blaine had stepped back when Kurt took the book from him. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I tried to read them as quickly as I could."

Kurt smiled reassuringly at him, though he wasn't sure Blaine was even looking at him. "Hey, no, it's fine," he told him hastily. He looked down at the book's glossy cover. "Why do you want to read them?" he asked gently.

"I want to try and keep up with my education and this is the best way I can do that. I used to get top grades before-" He snapped his mouth shut suddenly, darting a frightened glance at Kurt.

Ignoring his burning curiosity about Blaine's past, Kurt smiled at him. "I can help you with that. You can borrow my textbooks any time you want and I can show you the work I've been doing at school. If there's anything else like this that I can help you with don't be afraid to let me know, ok?"

Blaine nodded, his body still hunched protectively after his earlier slip-up. Kurt wanted desperately to be able to approach the smaller boy and wrap his arms around him in a comforting hug or even just place a hand on his arm in reassurance, but he couldn't, Blaine was always so careful to never get too close to him and Kurt didn't want to push him too much, not when everything was going so well, not when Blaine was starting to open up to him.

"It's ok," he said instead. "It's ok," he repeated in a softer voice.

Blaine's skittish gaze met his again and this time he held it for a long moment, until the anxiety faded and calm replaced it. He nodded.

Checking the time on his phone, Kurt got to his feet. "I'd better go back downstairs before Finn notices I'm gone, but I'll be back up with breakfast tomorrow morning, ok?" At another nod from Blaine, he smiled and crossed the attic to collect the tray of dirty dishes. He turned back to Blaine just as he reached the top of the stairs; the other boy was still watching him. "Sleep well," he said gently.

* * *

"I'm going over to Rachel's, she wants to do a duet in Glee on Monday to show Mr. Schue that we deserve one for Sectionals and we need to practice."

Kurt spun away from the stove where he was making pancakes for breakfast as a treat for Blaine to see a somewhat grumpy and unenthusiastic Finn standing in the doorway with his car keys in his hand.

Finn's face scrunched up in confusion. "I must be doing something wrong because she keeps getting annoyed at me…"

Turning back to his pancakes to hide his joy that Finn would be out of the house for most of the day – Rachel's practice sessions always dragged on for hours – Kurt made a sympathetic noise. "That girl is insane," he commented, trying to sound appropriately nonchalant. "Do you want breakfast before you go?" he asked, expertly flipping a pancake.

Finn shot a longing look at the frying pan and the stack of pancakes on the plate on the counter. "Can't," he groaned, "Rachel wants me over now and she said she'd made breakfast for me." He sounded completely unenthusiastic at the thought and Kurt hid a smirk – whatever Rachel had made was bound to be considered too healthy and unappetizing by Finn.

"Alright, well, I'll see you when you get back. Good luck with Rachel." He slid another finished pancake on top of the stack on the plate and poured more batter into the pan.

"Yeah, see ya." With one last wistful glance at the pancakes, Finn left, the front door thudding shut behind him.

Kurt hummed to himself as he finished making the pancakes, turned off the stove, and placed the food onto a tray along with two steaming mugs of coffee. He had decided to eat breakfast with Blaine this morning and that was now made all the more easier by Finn leaving.

He was still humming softly as he knocked on the attic door and let himself into what he was starting to think of as Blaine's room, like he was actually lodging here instead of hiding out there in secret.

"Morning!" Kurt greeted him brightly, smiling at the curly-haired boy straightening the blanket on his bed.

Blaine gave him a small, shy smile. "Morning, Kurt."

Beaming at him, Kurt set the breakfast tray down on the usual box Blaine used as a dining table.

"I thought I'd eat breakfast up here with you," Kurt told him as he picked up a plate and served himself a few pancakes and some fresh fruit. He paused in the midst of drizzling maple syrup over his breakfast. "I hope that's ok," he added.

Blaine nodded, hesitated, and then cleared his throat. "It's fine, I- I like the company." He ducked his head slightly.

Kurt's heart was so light he felt like it should be floating up out of him like a balloon caught in a breeze. "Well, help yourself. There's coffee there for you as well." He quickly added milk to his own coffee and grabbed the mug before moving away from the tray and sitting down in his usual spot with his back against a crate, smiling as he watched Blaine pile some food onto his plate. "Take as much as you want," he urged him. "Anything you don't eat will just go to waste."

Blaine nodded and hesitantly put a couple more pancakes and fruit onto his plate, before pouring on some syrup. He carried both his plate and coffee over to the nearby wall and sat down with his back against it, setting his mug down on the floor beside him.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Kurt asked him as he speared a strawberry piece on his fork. "Did that blanket I gave you help?"

Blaine's eyes drifted to his bed as he chewed a mouthful of blueberries. "It did," he replied quietly.

Smiling, Kurt nodded. "I'm glad; it must have been uncomfortable sleeping on the floor."

"Yeah, I used to get so many bruises, and back pain has always been a problem."

It was the longest sentence Kurt had ever heard Blaine speak, and though it was still spoken in a voice barely above a whisper, it was a huge step forward. Kurt stared across the attic at him for a moment, watching him sip at his coffee, until he realised what he was doing and dropped his gaze back to his plate, smiling down at his pancakes.

It was only a minute or so later that Kurt found himself watching Blaine again through his lowered lashes. It just made him so unbelievably happy to see Blaine looking happy and relaxed, so different from the terrified boy he had discovered two nights ago. He felt a strange, though not unpleasant, squeezing in his stomach at the sight of Blaine finishing off his fruit, saving his pancakes until last. There was another fluttering squeeze in his stomach when Blaine delicately cut off a small piece of syrup-drenched pancake and popped it in his mouth, a smile playing about the corners of his mouth as he chewed slowly, savouring the mouthful. Kurt had definitely made the right decision by making them.

When they had both finished eating – Blaine having taken his time over his pancakes – Kurt moved to stack their dirty dishes on the tray and was surprised when Blaine stood to help him: usually he would set his dishes to the side and keep his distance.

"Thank you for making breakfast," he said once everything was on the tray. He still looked a little wary as he met Kurt's gaze and he was still standing out of reaching distance – most likely on purpose – but it was another huge improvement.

Kurt lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "It was nothing."

"No, it wasn't," Blaine insisted, shaking his head. "Y- You put time and effort and thought into it – you thought about _me_." He looked stunned at the idea, like he couldn't imagine why anyone would do such a thing and Kurt's heart, which had been swelling with happiness, ached.

"You don't know how big of a deal that is to me," Blaine continued quietly. "H- How much it _means_ to me." He paused and lowered his gaze to the floor. "I haven't had anyone care about me like this in years," he mumbled.

Even though that was the most Blaine had ever revealed about himself, Kurt felt none of the earlier happiness about gaining his trust. Instead, he just felt heartache and a fierce anger at the world. What had Blaine done to deserve this? Just how long had he been on his own, feeling unloved and lonely? Where was his family? And did this sweet, polite boy really have no friends? Kurt wanted to hug Blaine so badly, to pull him into his arms and comfort him and protect him from the world that had treated him so unfairly, that his arms actually twitched towards him before he held himself in check.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to decide how to best respond. "I'm sorry it's been that way for you," he said eventually. "But I really did mean it when I said I wanted to help you. I don't want you to be lonely, hungry, cold, or uncared for anymore." He cringed a little at his words; they seemed such an inadequate response to what Blaine had just revealed, but he couldn't think of anything else to say to comfort him and assure him that the world and its people weren't all bad.

He didn't need to say anything else; Blaine was looking up at him with troubled, watery eyes that, for the first time since Kurt had known him, held a spark of hope. It broke Kurt's heart all over again.

"Thank you," Blaine whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears.

Feeling tears prick in his own eyes, Kurt simply smiled at him. He didn't know whether it was the sincerity of his words, his unbroken promise to not tell anyone about Blaine, bringing food and a blanket to him and offering to help with his education, or a combination of it all that had ignited Blaine's hope. All that mattered was that it was there, and Kurt would make every effort to make sure it never faded.

* * *

Standing uncertainly in the attic doorway, Blaine nibbled apprehensively on his bottom lip. "I don't know, Kurt…" He darted another uncertain glance over Kurt's shoulder at the deserted hallway beyond.

Smiling patiently at him, Kurt readjusted his grip on the breakfast tray. "I swear it will be fine. My dad and Carole won't be back until this evening and Rachel won't let Finn leave until she's completely satisfied with their duet, which won't be for hours, trust me."

Swallowing, Blaine stepped through the door to join Kurt in the hallway. He jumped slightly when Kurt closed the attic door behind him. Although he had come down into the rest of the house every day while Kurt and his family had been out, it was different being here with Kurt. He was used to rushing through a set routine and returning to the attic as quickly as he could; he didn't know what to expect now that he was with Kurt.

"I'm going to tidy this away," Kurt told him, raising the tray up slightly. "You can rinse that out in my bathroom." He nodded at the bowl in Blaine's hands that served as his sink. "You can use the shower in there as well."

Blaine started to protest. "Kurt, I-"

"I insist," Kurt said firmly. "You can't tell me you like washing out of a plastic bowl."

Knowing there was no point in arguing, Blaine gave in. He really did want to have a shower – it had been months since he'd had a proper one – but he felt a bit uncomfortable accepting all of this from Kurt. He was doing so much for him. And there was no way Blaine could ever repay him.

Seeing his resolve collapse, Kurt led the way through his bedroom and opened the door to his bathroom. "Towels are there," he said, pointing. "You can use any of the shampoos or body washes." He made to leave the room, but seemed to remember something and dumped the tray on a dresser before rummaging through the drawers. He pressed a bundle of neatly folded clothes into Blaine's arms. "You can change into this when you're done."

"But-"

Shaking his head at him, Kurt picked the tray up again. "I'll wash your clothes," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Come downstairs when you're finished. Take as long as you want." With one last smile he left the room.

The shower was heaven: a rushing stream of hot water massaging his back and shoulders; he could have stood under it for hours. He eyed the row of bottles in the shower for several minutes before he built up the nerve to actually use them. He almost moaned at how good it felt to wash his hair properly with hot water and shampoo that smelled both sweet and spicy. He took his time washing it out of his curls, before selecting a body wash and finishing his shower, turning off the water with some reluctance.

Kurt had given him a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to wear. The sweatpants were comically large on him; the bottoms of the legs pooled around his feet so he looked like a child in oversized pyjamas. The t-shirt fit a little better, but it still stretched across his chest and was too long for his body. It felt strange wearing them, not because the sizing was a little off, but because they were Kurt's and his scent clung to the fabric, a cloud of it enveloping him when he pulled the shirt on over his head. He chastised himself when he inhaled deeply – the scent that filled his nostrils was both comforting and nerve-tingling.

Scooping up his own clothes from where he had discarded them on the floor, he headed downstairs, walking lightly on his feet to make as little noise as possible – a habit ingrained into him from weeks of trying to keep his presence a secret.

Kurt was rummaging through a cupboard when Blaine entered the kitchen, but he spun around when Blaine cleared his throat to announce his presence. His eyes were bright as they took in Blaine's damp hair, shower-flushed skin, and ill-fitting outfit.

"How was your shower?" he asked, holding out a hand for Blaine's clothes.

Handing the bundle over, Blaine gave him a small smile. There was something about Kurt that made him smile even after months of never grinning. "It was great; thanks for letting me use your bathroom."

Kurt waved his thanks aside. "You're allowed to take a shower any time you come down here, ok?" He held up Blaine's clothes. "I'll just go put these in the wash."

Blaine watched the taller boy walk away, a strange feeling washing over him. He really liked Kurt. It was probably stupid of him; they had only known each other a few days and it would be so easy for Kurt to give him up and have him thrown out. And yet, he'd had plenty of opportunity to do so since he had first found Blaine two nights ago, and if he was going to tell someone he would have done it by now. Every minute he spent with Kurt he found himself liking and trusting the other boy more.

Kurt smiled at him as he re-entered the kitchen and that was when Blaine knew he wanted to tell Kurt everything, wanted to share a bit of himself with him and let him understand why he was living up in an attic all by himself. He wanted to have someone he could confide in and spend time talking about anything and everything. He wanted a friend.

* * *

**A/N: **You guys wanted more Kurt and Blaine interaction... :) And now Blaine wants Kurt to be his friend :')

Huge thank you once again to everyone reading and to those writing reviews!

And thank you to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex! Turns out it was dodgy email accounts that was to blame for the previous chapter not being beta read.

Next chapter includes a big step in Kurt and Blaine's relationship! Have fun guessing what that may be ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt spent an increasing amount of time with Blaine as the weeks went by. Every day he would bring food to him, even if he wasn't able to go up to the attic until after everyone else had gone to bed. He had also started to bring some of his schoolwork up to Blaine so that he could do the same sort of work he would have been doing if he was still in school. If the rest of his family was out, Kurt also did his homework up there with him.

Every day when Blaine went down into the main house after it had emptied, he would always find food that Kurt had left out for him in the kitchen or in his bedroom, and Kurt had also given him several bagfuls of food that he could keep up in the attic all the time. This meant that the days of feeling hungry were a thing of the past and Blaine was completely overcome with gratitude and desperately wished there was some way for him to repay Kurt despite the other boy's assurances that just seeing Blaine happy and healthy was repayment enough.

"-and then you use the number you worked out back here in this equation to get your answer," Kurt explained, pointing at the pages in front of Blaine with his pen. He glanced up at Blaine, smiling. "Do you understand or do you want me to work through a question for you?"

Blaine barely heard him; it was the first time Kurt had been speaking to him and he hadn't been hanging on to every word, but his mind was on other things tonight.

"Do you believe in fate?" he asked.

Kurt straightened up from where he'd been bent over the books and paper spread over a box and turned to face Blaine fully, confusion and concern flickering in equal measures in his eyes.

"Do you believe there is some greater force directing the paths our lives take?" Blaine elaborated. "That there is _something_ that makes certain events happen, that makes us go to certain places or meet certain people?"

Kurt was looking more worried now, probably because of the tone of Blaine's voice: serious with a hint of desperation, like his life depended on Kurt giving a specific answer.

"I- I don't know," Kurt said after a moment. "I'm not religious or anything, so I don't believe there's a God up there playing around with the paths our lives take, but fate doesn't really have anything to do with religion…" He trailed off, looking contemplative as if he had never given the matter much thought before. A small frown line had appeared between his eyebrows. "I don't know," he admitted somewhat apologetically. He lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "To be honest I find it a little hard to believe in coincidences at times."

Nodding slowly, Blaine pondered his words, his mind turning over thoughts of his parents, his life before the attic, his life now, and Kurt.

"Wh- What brought this on?" Kurt asked tentatively after a minute or two – he looked worried again.

Blaine hesitated, but it was only for the briefest of moments; he trusted Kurt now and thought of the other boy as a friend. Kurt was the only good thing in his life these days, the beautiful, bright spark that made it worth getting up each morning –it was time he knew. "I was thinking about my life before," he said and Kurt's gaze snapped up to meet his. "About how I came to living in this attic and what I had done to deserve this life."

Kurt opened his mouth and quickly closed it again, his expression caught between curiosity and concern.

"I was fourteen when I finally built up the courage to tell my parents something I had known for over a year: that I was gay." Kurt stiffened with shock and for a second Blaine worried that he was about to be on the receiving end of abuse similar to what he had suffered at the hands of his parents and students at his old school. He'd had an inkling that Kurt may also be gay – the fashionable outfits, all the skin creams on his vanity in his room, and the neat stack of _Vogue _issues on one of his shelves were not things associated with an average straight guy – but he didn't like to make assumptions and Kurt had never mentioned it, so he had no idea if his hunch was correct. When Kurt did nothing but blink at him in surprise, he continued, "It was something everyone at my school already knew and had been giving me hell for, but my parents had never guessed. I was good at hiding all the evidence of harassment I received at school – the bruises, cuts, damaged books and clothing – from them and the faculty never cared enough to do anything about the bullying, so they never found out. The one time they did find out that I was being bullied I managed to pass it off as name calling stemmed from my high grades."

He paused and swallowed, a flash of concern flickering through him; he hadn't missed the small flinch Kurt had given when he mentioned his bullying, nor the way his hand had risen unconsciously to lightly skim his ribs on his right side. _Is Kurt suffering similar torture to what I had at school?_ The thought made worry and anger flood him and he felt a sudden, strong instinct to protect the taller boy against anyone and anything that threatened to harm him.

"I was a little worried about what my parent's reactions would be, since they had always expected me to be the perfect son and I knew they were quite conservative in their views, but I was their _son_." He swallowed again and took a deep, steadying breath. He went on to describe his parent's reactions, Kurt letting out a small gasp when he said how his dad had told him he deserved the cruel treatment he was receiving at school and Blaine had to clench his fists to stop his hands from shaking as he remembered that afternoon, as vividly as if it had happened yesterday: his father's glare, his mother's stiff disapproval, his sweaty hands slipping off the counter, his fingers uncrossing…

He clenched his jaw in a valiant effort to hold back the tears burning in the back of his throat and prickling in his eyes as he told Kurt about how his mother had never defended him. Kurt's blue eyes were glassy with tears and his face was creased with sympathy and pain. A drop of salty water spilled from his left eye and trickled slowly down his pale cheek.

"After that afternoon they avoided me as much as they could," Blaine said in a rough, slightly choked voice. "When I was around them they alternated between ignoring me completely and shouting at me, calling me filthy, disgusting, unnatural, wrong."

"Di- Did you- Did your parents ever…hit you?" Kurt asked cautiously, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

Blaine shook his head and Kurt exhaled in relief. "My dad shoved me into a doorframe once and he threw a glass and something else at me on the night I left home, but they never actually hit me, no."

Kurt looked like he was about to be sick and Blaine couldn't blame him; he couldn't imagine how he would be feeling right now if their situations were reversed and it was Kurt sitting on the floor of the attic where he lived telling him this story, but he guessed it would be similar to how Kurt was feeling.

"My life was miserable; I was hated at both school and home. I had only one friend: a guy a year older than me called Eric, the only other openly gay guy at my school. We rather stupidly went to a Sadie Hawkins dance together and afterwards while we were waiting for his dad to pick us up, a group of guys beat the living crap out of us."

Kurt made a sudden movement, his hand lunging out towards Blaine, before he caught himself, and the hand fell back onto his lap. "Oh, Blaine," he whispered, his voice troubled and thick with tears.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Blaine to hold onto his composure. Between Kurt's tears and horrified expression and re-living his memories, he was struggling to hold himself together and not break down. He blinked rapidly to try and hold back tears, but a few still escaped as he described his time in hospital: alone, depressed, and feeling absolutely worthless.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip and tasted blood. "Eric moved to Illinois after that; I never saw him again," he finished wearily.

"What happened to the guys who beat you up?"

Sighing, Blaine met Kurt's watery blue eyes again. "They got away with it," he told him bitterly. "Neither Eric nor I got a good look at who they were – it was dark and happened so quickly and they all ran off when Eric's dad showed up and he was more concerned with checking on Eric and me than running after them, so we never knew who did it."

"And you went back to that school?" Kurt asked in horror. "After _that_?"

Blaine nodded. "I didn't have any choice." He ran a hand through his hair and stared down at the old wooden floorboards, following the grain of aged wood with his eyes to try and keep his emotions under control as he told Kurt about the worst years of his life: the continual abuse at school and at home, the detention that resulted in his father threatening him, and then finally the second detention that was the trigger to him running away from home.

He paused again when he reached the point in his memory of limping into his living room to find his livid parents waiting for him. He tried to start talking again, but his voice broke and he had to take several deep breaths before he was able to speak. Across from him, Kurt looked scared at what he would hear next. There were wet tracks on Kurt's face from his tears and his fingers were digging into the material of his pants.

"My father went mad and threw his empty glass at me; my mother said nothing – again. When my father started advancing on me I turned and ran up the stairs, filled my school satchel with anything from my room that I thought I'd need and ran away from home." Closing his eyes, Blaine bit back a sob. "I ran all night, terrified that my parents or the police would find me. I didn't know where I was or where I was going – I just kept running.

"Eventually I reached the outskirts of a town and found a deserted old house that looked like it had been abandoned for months. Knowing I had to get off the streets, I hid in the attic and have been here since, only ever leaving late at night a few times a week to get food and other essentials from nearby shops using the small amount of money I had in my bag, but when that ran out…" He trailed off, not wanting to admit to the things he'd done to survive: stealing from shops and raiding people's trash cans.

"Blaine…"

He opened his eyes. Kurt was gazing at him with eyes full of tears, sympathy, pain, and understanding. His face was crumpled with his emotions, but he was still beautiful despite the puffy, red face and eyes. "I can't even begin to imagine what that must have been like," he said in a voice roughened by tears. He lifted his hand again, dropped it back into his lap. "I'm so glad you got away from it all and are safe here."

Blaine nodded and managed to give Kurt a small, watery smile.

Sniffing, Kurt wiped at his damp face. "How long have you been living here?"

"Around seven months," Blaine replied.

Kurt stared at him. "You've been on your own all that time?"

It wasn't a question, just an expression of his horror, but Blaine nodded anyway. As Kurt continued to watch him with concern, he remembered his reaction to him talking about his bullying at school. He was a little nervous asking about it, but he felt extremely close to Kurt just now; he felt like he could share everything with him.

He licked his lips. "Kurt…" The other boy looked at him curiously. "Do you- Are you being bullied at your school?"

Kurt flinched and curled in on himself a little. Blaine worried that Kurt was going to refuse to answer and that he had severed the connection between them, but then Kurt spoke.

"I am," he admitted in a small voice. "For the same reason you were bullied: for being gay. Nowhere near as bad as you, though. I just get called hateful names, thrown in dumpsters, shoved into lockers, and slushies thrown in my face – but that's something the whole Glee club gets." He shook his head. "That's nothing to what you got and at least I can escape from it at home and I have friends at school."

"That isn't nothing, all of it is undeserved and terrible, you can't compare your experiences to mine and think that how you are treated doesn't matter just because you haven't ended up in hospital," Blaine told him firmly. "Every smallest bit of bullying affects a person and is something that they carry with them for the rest of their lives, so don't brush yours off as nothing and allow it to continue. Get help before it gets too bad, ok?"

Kurt nodded and Blaine sat back from where he'd been leaning forward, holding Kurt's gaze. "You have told other people about it, haven't you?" he asked him.

Kurt nodded again. "Yeah, my dad and friends know, as do a few of the teachers."

"Good." Blaine hesitated for a second, and then added, "I'd hate to see you get hurt, Kurt. I'd hate to see you end up like I did: hospitalized and damaged."

* * *

Kurt was getting better at hiding the secret of the old house he lived in. These days he hardly ever got suspicious looks or curious questions when he was doing something for Blaine. He had perfected the art of visiting him up in the attic and had never been caught. Since that one time with Finn no one had ever questioned the amount of food he cooked and he was successfully able to give Blaine all the meals he needed without anyone noticing. He was keeping Blaine's promise, but he hated lying and concealing things from his family. Especially his dad.

He determinedly pushed aside the burning guilt that filled him whenever he was around his family; the last thing he wanted to do was break the promise he made to Blaine. He knew the other boy would be ready to leave the attic and face other people soon; he just had to be patient until that time came. Breaking his promise would mean losing Blaine's trust, which had taken weeks to gain, and maybe even losing Blaine completely, both of which would deeply hurt Kurt. He and Blaine were friends and had grown extremely close; he couldn't lose their relationship and this, along with the knowledge that betraying Blaine's trust would completely destroy the other boy, kept him from spilling the secret.

Kurt had other problems as well. With this increasing closeness to Blaine, other, stronger feelings were developing that caused him to blush when Blaine smiled crookedly at him with soft eyes, to avert his gaze when his shirt rode up to show a strip of tanned skin, and his stomach to flutter when he saw Blaine for the first time each day. He found himself regularly thinking about Blaine when he wasn't with him, like during class at school, while Rachel was ranting about something in Glee club, or while he laid in bed at night. However, these thoughts rarely consisted of his worries for the other boy like they had done in the past; instead they were now him imagining Blaine lying next to him, softly caressing his face and leaning in to kiss him, his honey eyes filled with happiness and adoration as he brushed their noses together and threaded his fingers through Kurt's. Sometimes the thoughts were less sweet and innocent and more hot and heavy…

Whenever these fantasies filled his head his whole body would thrill with longing and his heart and stomach would squeeze and flutter with anticipated happiness. And as the days went by and the feelings got stronger, he became unable to describe them anymore; this was nothing he had ever experienced before.

Though he didn't have the best track record for dealing with this sort of thing – his pathetic schoolboy crush on Finn still made him cringe in embarrassment and curse his younger self – he was determined to hide these feelings from Blaine, even though they were a lot stronger and more potent than anything he had ever felt for Finn. He doubted Blaine felt the same way and he didn't want to threaten their friendship by having Blaine find out how he felt. He would rather have nothing more than his wistful fantasies than not have Blaine's friendship at all.

It was a little after seven in the evening and he and Blaine had just finished dinner. He had been able to come up to the attic earlier than he usually did since his dad and Carole were out to dinner with friends and Finn was over at Puck's house. They were sitting near each other, Blaine now being comfortable enough around Kurt to sit within touching distance of him, talking about nothing in particular as they watched the small squares of the evening sky visible through the windows turn a beautiful mixture of soft purples, blues, and reds as dusk fell over Lima, the attic rapidly getting darker until it was lit only by the wash of streetlights from outside. Reaching for the flashlights he had given Blaine for more light at nights, Kurt clicked them on and balanced them carefully on a couple of nearby crates.

When he sat back down and looked over at Blaine he noticed a loose eyelash on the other boy's cheekbone. Without thinking about it, he reached over and gently brushed it off his face.

Blaine shied violently away from him, jumping backwards several feet, his face a mask of panic and fear.

"I'm sorry!" Kurt gasped, immediately realising what he'd done. He wanted to hit himself for being so stupid and careless; Blaine had been abused and hadn't trusted people for a long time, so of course he would react like that if someone just suddenly touched him without warning. It was instinct. "I'm so sorry," he said pleadingly. "You had a loose eyelash and- I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

Blaine recovered quickly, the fear that had been dilating his pupils rapidly fading. "It's ok," he assured, moving back towards Kurt until he was sitting near him again. "You don't have to apologise, you did nothing wrong. I'm just not used to people touching me like that," he admitted quietly, ducking his head.

Kurt couldn't think of anything to say to this and he was still chastising himself for what he did, so he stayed silent and after a short pause, Blaine spoke again.

"Even before they learned I was gay my parents weren't ones for physical affection," he said, still in the same quiet voice. He hunched his shoulders slightly, his arms wrapping protectively around his waist, reminding Kurt of the night he had found him. He felt a bolt of fear that his actions had caused Blaine to regress towards the emotional state he'd been in on that night. "Except for a few hugs from Eric, I've never really…" Blaine trailed off, his eyes downcast and Kurt blinked back the tears that had sprung up at Blaine's words and the sight of his broken face. He started to move, hesitated, then made a decision and shifted until he was sitting directly in front of Blaine, their knees almost touching.

Blaine raised his head and met his gaze. The look in his eyes was enough to make Kurt want to break down in tears, but he held onto his control.

"Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

Blaine didn't even hesitate. "Of course," he replied, nodding.

A wave of relief washed over Kurt; he had worried that his thoughtless action had lost him some of Blaine's trust. "I want to try something. Just keep still and if you want me to stop then say so." He slowly lifted a slightly trembling hand and, holding Blaine's gaze, moved it towards one of Blaine's hands where it rested on his thigh just above his knee. Something jumped inside of him when his hand covered Blaine's, something that somehow managed to make his body thrum with a strange electricity. Trying to ignore the sensation, he let his hand rest on Blaine's for a moment, lightly brushing his thumb in small sweeps across the soft skin, before slowly sliding his hand up Blaine's arm, keeping his eyes on his face to check for any hint of discomfort or unease as he felt the muscles of Blaine's slim arm beneath his hand. He felt a bit more confident when he reached Blaine's shoulder, but his hand was still quivering visibly as he touched Blaine's jaw and smoothed his thumb along the line of it. Blaine exhaled heavily and Kurt froze, worried that he'd gone too far, but Blaine was looking at him with eyes filled with trust and something else, something that made Kurt's insides coil with pleasure. Blaine's eyes fluttered closed as Kurt swept his thumb along his cheekbone, before brushing the curls back from his forehead. He smiled at the small sigh of approval that escaped Blaine's lips when he trailed his fingers through his messy dark hair. The trembling in his hand had lessened by now and the remaining quivers were not from his fear of doing something wrong or pushing Blaine too far.

He lowered his hand from Blaine's hair and gently stroked the delicate skin of Blaine's eyelids, skimmed over his slightly chapped lips, before he cupped the other boy's face in his hand, caressing his cheek softly.

Blaine opened his eyes and another wave of tenderness flooded Kurt when he saw they were filled with tears. "Thank you," he whispered.

"I really care about you, Blaine," Kurt murmured. "And it's not just because I feel sorry for you living up here all by yourself with hardly any food and having to sleep on the floor. Maybe it was like that to begin with, but then I got to know you and-" He broke off, fumbling for words. "You mean a lot to me," he continued, his thumb still stroking along Blaine's cheek in steady sweeps, "don't ever forget it – promise?"

Blaine nodded, leaning into Kurt's touch in a way that had Kurt's heart squeezing from both heartbreak and adoration. "I promise."

* * *

**A/N: **Not quite a klaine hug, but I felt this was better than a hug after the way Blaine reacted to being touched.

Hopefully the first part of the chapter wasn't too repetitive; I changed bits of it a few times to try and include the new information about Blaine, Kurt's reaction, and Blaine's pain from re-living it, along with bits of his story we already know to show reactions to specific parts... I don't know if I'm making sense here, but in my defence, I'm ill.

Thank you for reading and huge thank you to everyone reviewing - whenever I read all the reviews for this I don't know whether to cry or roll around on the floor squealing.

And thanks once again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

I don't know when the next update will be as I think scheduled updates are too difficult to do with life being busy, but the next chapter should be up before the end of the week. And the next chapter includes one of my favourite scenes :)


	9. Chapter 9

When Rachel joined Kurt and Mercedes at the lockers one morning and announced that it was high time they had one of their sleepovers and that she could have the pair of them over this Friday, Kurt was torn. He loved the nights he would spend with his two best friends watching movies, eating healthy vegan food with the occasional junk food splurge, giving each other facials and manicures, gossiping, and talking about boys, but on the other hand a night spent with them was a night away from Blaine. It was a bit silly to feel that way, especially now that the other boy had plenty to eat and was a lot happier and more comfortable, but he looked forward to tiptoeing up to the attic at night to talk to Blaine about his day, to teach him something new he'd learnt at school, to read the latest issue of _Vogue_ with him, and to feel his heart skip when he saw his bright, infectious smile and warm hazel eyes.

That night he told Blaine about the sleepover while Blaine ate the food he had brought up with him. He also hesitantly admitted how a part of him didn't want to go since it would mean he wouldn't be able to visit Blaine that night. When he finished talking, Blaine watched him with an odd expression on his face for a minute, before he finally spoke.

"Kurt, you can't avoid spending time with your friends just to sit up here with me," he said. "Besides, I was alone for months before you came along. I think I can handle one day by myself."

Kurt's stomach twisted uncomfortably and his heart clenched as if someone had squeezed it in a vice at the reminder of how long Blaine had been living up here without a single person who cared about him, who cared about whether he lived or died. He swallowed around the thickness in his throat and inhaled deeply to try and hold back the tears that were threatening to make an appearance. He didn't want to start crying about the past that he couldn't change, not after he had shed so many tears over it already, not when he was so determined to improve the future, and not when Blaine was sitting next to him giving him advice and telling him to spend a night with his friends without a hint of pain or longing in his voice.

Just as he was about to nod in response to Blaine's words, he realised something. "You're my friend, too." When Blaine stared at him with a strange expression on his face, he explained, "You said I shouldn't avoid spending time with friends, but you're my friend as well."

Blaine still stared at him, but this time his eyes were a little glassy with tears, his face slightly creased with emotion and Kurt suddenly understood. Although they had really been friends for a while now, that was the first time the word 'friend' had been said aloud by either of them when referring to their relationship and Kurt was Blaine's first true friend in years. Kurt wanted to say something to him, though admittedly he couldn't think of anything, but Blaine beat him to it.

He smiled softly. "Yes, we're friends." He spoke quietly, slowly, as if savouring the word 'friend,' enjoying the feel of it on his tongue and the sound of it coming from his mouth. "But you see me every day and you shouldn't neglect your other friends because of me. And I know you really want to go; you've told me before how much you enjoy those sleepovers."

"Yeah, I do," Kurt admitted. "I just feel bad leaving you alone for a day when no one else knows you're here." He picked at the fabric of his pants. "I just hate the thought of you spending another day alone," he finished in a low voice, his eyes on his legs.

"Kurt," Blaine said softly. Kurt lifted his head to look at him. "I appreciate your concern and each time I see you I can't believe that you actually care enough to do everything that you've done for me – that you _still_ do for me; I can't believe you're my friend." He paused for a moment and Kurt gave him a small smile. "But a day alone is nothing when you know that not every day is going to be spent by yourself," he finished.

Swallowing, Kurt nodded. "I'll go to the sleepover."

Blaine smiled. "Good."

As it turned out, Kurt never had any reason to worry. As they were waiting for Glee club to start on Thursday, Rachel announced that their sleepover was off.

"An old friend of my dads' called last night; he's coming to visit tomorrow night and I'm not allowed to have friends over when my dads have guests," she informed Mercedes and Kurt glumly.

"We can't have it at my house either and we can't have it next week because we have Sectionals that weekend," Mercedes sighed.

As his friends expressed their disappointment, Kurt squashed down the little burst of delight he felt at the realisation that this meant he would get to spend time with Blaine tomorrow night; his joy at being able to see Blaine shouldn't have been stronger than his disappointment. Blaine didn't need to see him every day, so he should stop acting like he did.

"We could have it at my house," he suggested, trying to rid himself of the guilt creeping through him from his reaction to Rachel's announcement.

Both girls brightened and turned to face him with hopeful smiles. "Are you sure that will be ok with your family?" Mercedes asked. "It is a bit last minute."

Kurt shrugged. "I don't see why it wouldn't be."

This would be better than going to Rachel's; he could spend the night with his friends plus visit Blaine. It was perfect. Of course, he would have to keep Rachel and Mercedes occupied while he snuck upstairs to see Blaine and give him some dinner, but he figured that would be easily done with a movie or something.

After school on Friday, the three of them arrived at the Hudson-Hummel house and Rachel led the way upstairs to Kurt's bedroom, a stark contrast to the first time she had been at his house and had been searching the rooms for signs that it was haunted. The thought of those old stories made Kurt laugh now; he couldn't believe all those tales and gossip were caused by Blaine.

Carole was working a late shift that night and since neither Finn nor Burt was capable of cooking much more than grilled cheese, Kurt made dinner with the help of Rachel and Mercedes, who gossiped happily about the latest relationship dramas in Glee club as they worked. They were so caught up in some fresh news about Puck and Quinn that they didn't notice Kurt setting aside a portion of the food for Blaine.

He had to wait until he'd successfully occupied his friends with his stacks of sheet music before he could run downstairs, grab Blaine's food, and sneak it up to the attic for him on the pretence of going to fetch a DVD.

"Remind me again of why I voluntarily spend time with Rachel outside of school hours?" Kurt said by way of a greeting once the attic door had clicked shut behind him and he was climbing the stairs. "She never shut up the entire time we ate dinner."

Blaine looked up from the thick math textbook Kurt had given him and smiled. "Because deep down you really love her?" he offered.

"I like to think I must be slightly crazy," Kurt said, setting the tray holding Blaine's dinner down on a box and moving to look over Blaine's shoulder. "Mind you, I can't be any more insane than you; I can't believe you actually _want _to do math."

Flipping the textbook closed, Blaine shrugged. "I just don't want to have no education."

Kurt watched him thoughtfully for a moment as Blaine set the book aside, a few dark curls falling over his eyes. Then he shook his head as if clearing it of cobwebs. "Anyway, I can't stay up here long or Rach and Mercedes will get suspicious."

Blaine got to his feet and stretched and Kurt forced himself not to lower his gaze to where he knew a strip of stomach would be visible between the bottom of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans.

"That's ok," Blaine said, crossing the attic and sitting down behind the box where his food was. "Thanks for dinner; you go back and join your friends."

Kurt opened his mouth to tell Blaine that he would rather sit up here with him, but closed it again, instead telling Blaine to enjoy his meal and if he couldn't make it up to see him later then he would see him in the morning.

Kurt left the attic and started down the hall, planning to quickly sprint downstairs and grab the DVD he was supposed to have been looking for when Rachel suddenly stepped out of the bathroom right in front of him.

"What took you so long to get a DVD?" she demanded. Then she froze, her eyes flicking between Kurt and the attic door behind him. "Were you up in the attic?"

Panicking slightly, Kurt tried to think up a believable excuse and not look too guilty. "I thought the DVD might be up there, since that's where we store the ones we don't watch that often, but it wasn't, so it must be downstairs after all."

Rachel looked at him a little oddly and he willed her to buy it.

"Right…" she said slowly. She frowned at him for a few seconds and Kurt tried to look nonchalant under her stare. He sagged with relief when her expression cleared. "Well, go grab the movie, and can you make popcorn while you're down there?" she asked with a hopeful expression. At Kurt's nod, she smiled brightly. "Thanks, Kurt, you're the best!" She skipped off back to his bedroom and Kurt fell back against the wall, exhaling heavily in his relief. That had been a close one.

* * *

"Please," Kurt pleaded, his lower lip jutting out slightly. "I know you're worried, but I wouldn't suggest it if I knew there was a chance we could get caught."

Blaine worried the inside of his cheek with his teeth as he gazed at Kurt, conflicted. He trusted Kurt completely, but he was nervous about doing this; he hadn't been outside since before Kurt's family moved into the house and he couldn't help but be concerned. _What if someone sees us outside? What if Finn wakes up and catches us on our way back inside?_ He _did_ want to leave the house he had confined himself to, he wanted to feel the night air on his face and breathe in the smells of fresh air and grass for the first time in over a month, and he knew that tonight was the perfect time to do it with Kurt's dad and step-mom out of town, but he still worried.

A pale hand was placed on his knee. "There's no need to worry about Finn," Kurt assured him. "I swear a bomb could go off and he still wouldn't wake up."

Blaine nodded slowly and wiped his damp hands on his jeans.

Kurt was watching him with increasing concern. "You don't have to go if you don't want to; I don't want to force you into doing something you aren't comfortable with."

"No, it's fine," Blaine told him as firmly as he could manage. "I can't stay hidden away in this house forever. I want to do this."

Kurt watched him closely for a few seconds and Blaine knew he was checking for any signs of reluctance or fear. At the determined look in Blaine's eyes, he nodded. "Ok." He removed his hand from Blaine's leg and stood up. "Let's go then."

Getting to his feet, Blaine tried to ignore his racing heart as he followed Kurt across the attic and down the short flight of stairs to the door leading out into the upstairs hallway. Kurt silently inched the door open, peered out into the hall, and then opened the door wider and stepped through it with Blaine following close behind.

"I just need to get something from my room," Kurt whispered, before he disappeared into his bedroom and left Blaine alone in the dark hall, staring at the closed door that he knew to be Finn's, ready to flee back to the safety of the attic should it start to open.

Kurt returned less than a minute later carrying a couple of folded blankets and a thermos flask. "It's pretty cold out there," he explained in hushed tones. He smiled encouragingly at Blaine before setting off down the hall, walking lightly on his feet so as to make as little noise as possible. Blaine crept silently along behind him, months of practice enabling him to be quieter than Kurt. He shot an apprehensive look at Finn's bedroom door as they passed it, but it remained closed and he could hear the reassuring sounds of Finn snoring lightly in his sleep.

A couple of the stairs had the tendency to creak when weight was placed on them, so Kurt and Blaine avoided them as they descended to the lower floor of the house. A tiptoe across the entrance hall and kitchen later, Kurt was easing open the back door, wincing at the slight squeak of the old handle, and then the cool night air was flooding into the room.

Blaine inhaled deeply as he stepped outside, his nose filling with the smell of night-time, grass, and the plants in the flowerbeds. He wasn't sure what time it was exactly, but the moon was high in the sky and its light bathed the back yard in silver, turning even the ugly, wizened shrub in the far corner into something beautiful. He barely noticed the temperature as he waited for Kurt to shut the back door, but with winter drawing closer and the sky free from an insulating cover of clouds, it was bitterly cold.

He heard footsteps crossing the small paved area against the back of the house and then Kurt was walking past him, smiling as he stepped onto the grass and walked into the middle of the lawn where he set down the blankets and thermos.

Blaine shuffled over to join him just as Kurt was spreading one of the larger blankets out on the ground. "How long have you been planning this?" he asked as he lowered himself onto the blanket beside Kurt.

Shrugging, Kurt passed Blaine one of the other blankets. "Just since I found out my dad and Carole would be away tonight. So…" He paused, thinking, his hands slowly unfolding the blanket in his lap, "since Tuesday." He shrugged again and dropped his gaze down to the blanket. "I just wanted you to go outside; I know it's been a while since you were last out of the house."

Blaine nodded, watching Kurt out the corner of his eye as he tucked the blanket around his legs and leaned back, placing his hands out behind him for balance. "Thank you," he said sincerely, turning his head to face Kurt.

Kurt just smiled at him and reached for the thermos. "I made us some hot chocolate. Do you want some?" He set two small plastic mugs down in between them.

"Sure," Blaine replied. He watched Kurt carefully pour out two cups of hot chocolate and accepted one from him with a smile, wrapping his hands around the warm mug and watching the steam rise from the surface of the liquid into the frigid air.

They enjoyed their hot chocolate in a companionable silence. When Blaine had swallowed his last mouthful he set his empty mug aside and laid back on the blanket, gazing up at the star-spangled night sky.

After a few minutes he became aware of Kurt watching him and turned his head to meet the other boy's gaze.

One side of Kurt's mouth lifted into a smile. "Star-gazing?"

"The only bit of sky I get to see is a few tiny squares from the attic windows, so I like looking at the sky when I can," Blaine explained, turning his face upwards again. He heard a slight rustle of fabric and watched out of the corner of his eye as Kurt laid down on his back next to him. The moonlight fell on part of his face, gilding locks of his hair and the curve of his cheek. Blaine noticed him shiver.

He lifted an arm. "Come here," he murmured.

Kurt's eyes searched his face for a moment, before he carefully slid over until he was pressed against Blaine's side. He looked surprised but pleased when Blaine wrapped his arm around him and he hesitantly snuggled into Blaine, his cheek resting on Blaine's shoulder, his skin warming up from the combined heat of both of their bodies under the blankets.

This was the most physical contact they'd ever had. Since the night Kurt had touched Blaine for the first time, all they had done was sit close so their legs and arms brushed, and casual touches like a hand on a knee or shoulder in a friendly gesture. Blaine knew that Kurt didn't want to push him into anything more too quickly and he knew that Kurt was letting him be the one to initiate more when he was ready for it. Blaine appreciated it and he guessed Kurt must have been expecting him to take more time and build up to this slowly – judging from his surprised look – but this felt right: Kurt's head on his shoulder, his silky soft hair brushing his neck; the clouds from their combined breaths hovering in the air before them; the heat from Kurt's body seeping into his own; the softness of Kurt's sweater beneath his hand and the familiar, comforting scent of Kurt all around him. Why had he been holding back all this time?

A small sigh of pleasure escaped him and he noticed Kurt smile in response. He wondered what Kurt was thinking about. His face was relaxed and his eyes were soft, more grey than blue in the night, and the smile was still on his face as he gazed up at the sea of stars above them. He could be thinking about almost anything: pleased that Blaine had come outside with him, glad that he was no longer cold, amazed at the sheer number of stars and their simple beauty, pleasure at being held by Blaine…

Blaine felt some of his insecurities return as his mind followed that train of thought: why would Kurt think of him that way? He was a strong, beautiful, intelligent, brave young man whereas Blaine was weak, broken, riddled with fear and insecurity, disfigured by the scars of his past; why would Kurt want someone like him? Why would _anyone_ want someone like him? Back when he had been living with his parents he had wished for nothing more than to be on his own away from the world that hated him and was sickened by him, and now that his wish had come true maybe that was how it was supposed to be forever.

Desperately pushing away those thoughts before Kurt noticed his changed mood, he turned his attention back to the sky above him. He hadn't been lying earlier when he told Kurt that it was nice to see the whole sky again. Day after day he'd sat gazing out the small attic windows at the patches of sky he could see and wondering when he would be able to see the full thing above him again, the curve of it as it disappeared into the horizon, its impossible height, the ever-changing beauty of it. Now that he was seeing it for the first time in over a month, he found himself a little stunned by the number of stars that flickered and glimmered above him like diamonds.

"How many stars do you think there are?" he wondered aloud, his mind rapidly shifting to other thoughts, to topics he had spent hours mulling over as he had sat alone in the attic. "Infinite?"

He felt Kurt's head turn towards him on his shoulder. "Is anything infinite?" he questioned, suddenly looking thoughtful. "Surely everything must come to an end at some point. It's just that the end is sometimes too large or far for us to comprehend."

Blaine watched a large star directly above him flicker for a moment. "Maybe," he said quietly. The star appeared to swell slightly, before shrinking again a few seconds later. "How insignificant do you think we are?" he asked, his eyes still fixed on that star high above him. He could just see Kurt watching him in the periphery of his vision and could sense his puzzlement at his questions. "Does every little thing we do really affect anything else that happens?"

"Those are some deep questions, Anderson," Kurt observed after a short pause.

Blaine glanced over at him briefly before returning his attention to the sky and its impossibly large number of stars. "When you spend a lot of time on your own you just find yourself thinking about things like that," he explained. "And after everything that's happened in my life, I often think about coincidences and destiny."

He felt Kurt shift slightly. "You asked me if I believed in fate a couple of weeks ago; I said I didn't know."

"I know," Blaine told him quietly, "I remember." He fell silent for another long moment as he tried to assemble his rambling thoughts into something comprehensible.

"I know everything is essentially just molecules moving around and colliding at random with each other and that these collisions could be the trigger to everything that happens in our lives, such as if we bite our cheek while chewing and when and where people come into our lives," he began slowly, feeling Kurt's gaze on him as if it was something palpable, "but thoughts and emotions aren't made up of molecules are they? They aren't something physical, you can't hold happiness in your hand, so what causes them? Are they just nerve impulses? Some strange electrical activity? They can't be the result of random collisions of countless tiny molecules, so what are they?"

His mind was rapidly ticking through thoughts, the deeper meaning flicking between the vastness of the sky above him and its innumerable stars to the events of his past to his shifting and growing feelings for the boy curled against his side, watching him with wide, curious eyes.

"There must be _something _that causes you to feel a particular way about a particular person. What causes you to fall in love with one person and not another?"

He shifted his gaze to Kurt when he felt the other boy tense slightly. Their eyes met, Kurt's a gorgeous silvery blue in the moonlight, and something in them made Blaine unable to look away, emotions he couldn't even begin to name flooding through him.

Kurt's breath ghosted over his cheek as he exhaled. "Maybe those are questions that aren't supposed to be answered; maybe we're supposed to accept a random collision at times." His eyes became unfocused as his own thoughts pulled him deep into his head. "It can be scary being caught in a current carrying you somewhere unknown, but you can't fight it, so why not just go with it? Because in the end it may be worth the uncertainty and the pain."

Kurt came out of his thoughts after that and held Blaine's gaze for an immeasurable moment, a moment so full of something intense and indescribable that Blaine felt his breath catch in his throat. And then they were both looking away, their gazes skittering back to the stars as Blaine's heart raced within his chest.

When his rampant emotions finally started to settle he chanced a sly glance at Kurt out of the corner of his eye to see the other boy quickly looking away from him, a light blush dusting his cheeks. A sudden want – a _need_ – filled Blaine and he bit his lip as he struggled with it, wanting to act on it so badly, but scared of the possible outcomes.

It was the desire to finally do something he really wanted to do, after years of being scared and forced to follow rules, that made him do it, that made him lean over and shakily brush his lips over Kurt's cheek in a soft kiss.

Kurt remained still, his eyes focused on the stars above him and Blaine held his breath as he slowly pulled back, waiting for whatever Kurt's reaction would be. When Kurt finally turned his head to look at him, Blaine could have sworn his heart stopped beating. For a second something burned in Kurt's eyes, the same something that had been there earlier just before they had both looked away nervously, and suddenly Blaine could feel and hear his heart beating again as it leaped and stuttered. Then Kurt's gaze softened as he shifted closer to Blaine under the blankets and lifted a hand to gently stroke Blaine's cheek with his thumb.

"I'm glad you came out here tonight," he murmured.

Blaine smiled, his stomach fluttering with each sweep of Kurt's thumb. "Me too." He reached out his hand under the blankets, fumbling around for a moment until he finally caught Kurt's hand. Linking their fingers together he gave Kurt's hand a gentle squeeze, his smile widening when Kurt returned the pressure, his other hand dropping from Blaine's face to rest on the crook of his elbow as they both turned to face the stars again, watching the small fraction of their almost infinite numbers that they could see.

* * *

**A/N: **The last part of this chapter is one of my favourite scenes so far, I'm not even really sure why.

Most of Kurt and Blaine's conversation towards the end of the chapter came from me randomly having deep thoughts about coincidences and fate at 1am one night. Whenever I start thinking about stuff like that I always grab a notebook and write it all down and then sometimes I make those thoughts that I wrote down comprehensible and use them in my writing when it is fits with the storyline/characters, like it does here.

Thanks for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)


	10. Chapter 10

A hard knock to Kurt's side sent him staggering towards the lockers. He threw out his arm at the last second to stop himself from crashing into the cool metal. He winced as pain shot up his arm from the contact.

"Watch it, Hummel!" a voice snarled and Kurt flinched away from it, his hip hitting the lockers as images of Karofsky stepping towards him with his meaty fist raised flashed through his head – his nightmares come to life. When nothing else was said and no fist collided with his body, his panic faded enough for him to notice that the part of hallway he was standing in was now deserted except for a tall girl in a cheerleading uniform popping her gum as she strode passed, completely ignoring Kurt slumped against the bank of lockers to her right. It was only when his heart had stopped racing that he realised the voice of the person who had knocked him into the lockers hadn't belonged to Karofsky; it must have been one of his thuggish friends.

Letting his head fall back against the lockers, he closed his eyes, ignoring the ringing of the bell signalling the start of the next lesson – the teacher wouldn't care if he was a few minutes late. He exhaled shakily, tremors still shaking his body slightly. He hated this, hated that he was harassed for just being himself. If they hated the kind of person he was so much then why couldn't they just ignore him, just look through him and pretend he didn't exist?

A memory of Blaine telling him his story filled his head then, his hazel eyes betraying how broken he was as he explained why being completely ignored was just as bad as being harassed.

Of course he would never be completely alone; he'd have Rachel, Mercedes, Finn, and the rest of Glee club. But there were some days when he felt lonely even when he was sitting with his friends at lunch or in the crowded choir room. His friends and family tried their hardest to help him with his situation at school, and he greatly appreciated their effort, but sometimes it just wasn't enough and he would find himself forcing smiles to hide the pain, stress, and worry eating away at him.

He hadn't experienced this loneliness in a few weeks now, not since he and Blaine had become friends. Blaine actually understood him; he had been through the same things Kurt had and worse, so he was able to offer advice and proper support instead of just attempted comfort and sympathy.

Thinking of Blaine brought another flash of memory to the forefront of his mind: Blaine's shoulder beneath his cheek, the warmth of his body seeping into his own, the softness of the skin on the inside of Blaine's wrist when he brushed his thumb across it, Blaine's lips against his cheek…

All traces of his earlier panic were gone and replaced with a warm, tingling feeling that started deep inside of him and spread to every part of his body and made his stomach squeeze pleasantly and his heart race in a whole new way. A door slammed and a freshman girl walked passed, raising an eyebrow at the sight of him leaning against the lockers with a small, involuntary smile tugging at his mouth and what he imagined was a dreamy, lovesick expression on his face, and he suddenly remembered he was supposed to be in class.

Hitching his satchel more securely onto his shoulder, he hurried down the halls to his Math class, muttering a fabricated story about a misplaced textbook to his teacher as an excuse for his late arrival.

It turned out that it wouldn't have mattered if he had stayed out at the lockers for the entire lesson since the class was being devoted to going through a test they had just gotten back. Thanks to teaching Blaine everything covered in the test as part of his revision, Kurt had received full marks, and thus didn't need the explanation of all the answers that the teacher was currently giving them. With a sigh he slid down in his chair and tuned her voice out, turning his thoughts back to Blaine.

Blaine was so concerned with keeping up his education and making sure that he would be able to make something of his life when he was old enough without the threat of his parents' clutches, but would anyone care about all the hours he had spent reading and working through example questions if he didn't have an official graduation certificate with exam results? Would anyone care how smart he was if he didn't have that piece of paper? It was something that should have occurred to Kurt when Blaine first mentioned education to him, but it was only now that he realised how big of a deal it was; most colleges only took people who'd graduated high school or at least gotten a GED, and these days people without degrees rarely got very good jobs. He found it hard to believe Blaine hadn't thought of this and wondered what his plans for the future were. He hoped he hadn't given up on the possibility of graduating and getting into college.

Making a mental note to talk to Blaine about it tonight, Kurt started doodling absently on the corner of his test paper and let his mind wander. Just as class was starting to wind down and he was shooting hopeful glances at the clock every minute, a sudden idea struck him and he sat up straight in his chair, startling the person sitting next to him who appeared to have been dozing with their head resting on their hand. Kurt kept his eyes trained on the clock as he waited impatiently for the class to end. He was on his feet and out the door before the bell had even finished ringing, all but sprinting through the corridors to Miss Pillsbury's office, wanting to catch her before she left for the staffroom for lunch.

She was straightening a small stack of papers when he skidded to a halt outside her office door. Panting slightly, he raised a hand and knocked on the door which – as per her policy – was always open in her way of trying to be as welcoming and encouraging to the students as she could.

Miss Pillsbury looked up at the sound of Kurt's knock. "Kurt," she said, sounding surprised. "What are- what can I help you with?" She was a little flustered and Kurt wondered what expression was on his face that was causing her to act this way.

As she beckoned him into her office and gestured to the chair pulled up to her desk, he tried to calm down and focus; he couldn't let anything slip that might lead to Blaine's discovery.

"I have a question," he told the guidance counsellor as he sat down.

Miss Pillsbury nodded in encouragement.

Kurt hesitated for a moment before he spoke, choosing his words carefully. "Is it possible for someone who has been out of school for a while but has kept up with their education by themselves using textbooks to still enrol here to complete their senior year and graduate?"

Whatever Miss Pillsbury had been expecting Kurt to say it clearly wasn't this. She blinked in shock and stared at him for a good few seconds, looking completely thrown and for a brief moment Kurt wondered what she had thought he was going to ask about, before he pulled his mind back to Blaine and the situation at hand.

He cleared his throat and Miss Pillsbury pulled herself together. "Well, that's- that's a rare situation," she said, stumbling over her words a little as she waved her hands over her neat rows of pamphlets, "but I- we should be able to accommodate people in that situation." Her hands dropped back to her desk as she seemed to realise she had no pamphlet that covered this sort of thing.

Kurt shifted closer to her desk, trying not to get his hopes up too soon. "So, they would be able to sit the exams and graduate this year?" he asked, wanting to make sure.

Miss Pillsbury nodded. "Provided they really are up to date with the senior classes they want to enrol in and they get the required grades, then yes."

Kurt beamed at her. "Great! Would it be possible for him to be home-schooled to begin with?" he asked, hoping he would still get good news. "He's not quite ready emotionally to actually be at school."

Miss Pillsbury's forehead furrowed with concern. "Oh, is everything alright?" she asked, peering worriedly across her desk at Kurt. Her hands fluttered over the neat papers on her desk. "Under certain circumstances, we can do home-schooling with students."

Kurt nodded and quickly fabricated a suitable cover story for Blaine. "He's a friend of the family who's currently staying with us due to family problems, but he's a bit fragile and not emotionally ready for actually coming into classes just yet."

A small sympathetic smile appeared on Miss Pillsbury's face. "Oh, how horrible. Is he doing ok?" she asked.

Kurt lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "He's improving every day," he replied, no longer talking about his made-up family friend. "I like to think he'll be able to work towards attending school soon."

She nodded. "Alright, well I think the home-schooling should be ok and if he is at the sort of standard academically as you say then he should have no problem graduating this year." She folded her hands on the desk in front of her. "Everything will have to be organised with Principal Figgins, but I can't see there being any problems."

Kurt smiled at her. "Thank you!" He jumped to his feet and headed towards the cafeteria for lunch. He couldn't wait to tell Blaine the news tonight.

* * *

Despite having become slightly better at reading the night sky, Blaine was still struggling to tell how late it was as he peered out one of the small attic windows. He craned his head, his cheek pressing against the cool glass as he tried to see the moon's position in the inky sky. It wasn't full, and partially obscured by clouds, but even when he found the milky smudge he still couldn't tell the time.

Giving up, he moved away from the window and sat down on his bed. He blamed his difficulty at judging the time on his impatience; he wished that it was late enough for Kurt to come up and visit him. He felt bad about having these thoughts, though. Kurt didn't _have_ to visit him and certainly not every day. Though his life was pretty boring and very lonely, he hated the knowledge that he would be very disappointed if he didn't see Kurt one day. He had told Kurt that he didn't need him to visit every day and that was the truth, but at the same time he didn't like the thought of going so long without seeing the other boy.

Ever since the night he and Kurt had essentially cuddled under the stars, the night he had kissed him, he hadn't been able to get him out of his head. Whenever he wasn't reading or working through the schoolwork Kurt had given him, his mind always seemed to conjure up memories of Kurt: the first time he saw him properly on the morning after he found him; the wide smile on his face when Blaine told him his name; the musical sound of his laughter; the feel of his body curled against his, the scent of him on his skin and clothes, and the feel of his soft skin beneath his lips. Blaine may not have been that experienced with relationships of any kind, but he knew that what he felt for Kurt was more than just friendship. He was determined to hide that from the other boy, though – it was better to just have Kurt's friendship than to risk straining or destroying what they had. Besides, Kurt deserved so much better than him, the nervous, broken boy who was terrified to leave the house except under the cover of darkness.

The soft thud of the door closing and the light tread of Kurt's familiar footsteps on the stairs had him forcing those thoughts aside, but no matter how well he pushed them away it wasn't enough to stop his body reacting to the sight of Kurt – his heart skipping and his stomach squeezing.

"I have some news that I'm hoping you'll love," Kurt announced as he crossed the attic and sat down opposite Blaine.

Blaine couldn't control the wide smile on his face no matter how hard he tried. Seeing Kurt never failed to brighten his day and lift his mood. "What is it?"

"I know keeping up your education is important to you," Kurt began, speaking rather quickly in his eagerness to tell Blaine his good news. He explained how most colleges would be looking for some sort of high school diploma, and then revealed what his conversation with Miss Pillsbury had been about: the possibility of Blaine being home-schooled until he was ready to actually attend classes.

Blaine stared at Kurt when he was finished talking, at the excited smile on his face and the mixture of hope, happiness, and worry. He hadn't missed the way Kurt said 'until' he was ready, not 'if.' He had every confidence that Blaine would be able to comfortably and happily mingle with the general public again in less than a year's time, that he would be leading a normal life again before the school year was over. But he wasn't so sure. He didn't even know what he wanted to do with his life anymore.

He didn't want to see the hope fade from Kurt's eyes, though, and in the end he knew there was really only one answer he could give. "I'll do it," he said, trying to hide any and all hints of worry and fear from his tone and expression. "I'll be home-schooled, and then join you when I'm ready." He flashed Kurt what he hoped was a confident smile. "We'll graduate together."

Despite his best efforts, Kurt must have been able to see the uncertainty and fear in his eyes, because he reached out and took Blaine's hands in his and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "You're going to be able to live your life again, Blaine," he promised in a gentle voice. "You aren't going to be stuck in this attic forever. You aren't going to have to throw away your dreams just because of the way people have treated you in the past. You can't let them ruin your life."

Kurt's eyes were burning with intensity and his words were filled with such conviction that Blaine felt tears prick at his eyes and choke up his throat. He swallowed around the thickness in his throat and gripped at Kurt's hands, clinging to his promise.

"I don't want to hurry you into anything you aren't ready for, so we'll go slowly and you can take as much time as you need to build up to moving out of this attic." He stroked across the tops of Blaine's knuckles with his thumbs. "I believe you can do this. Although you may not think it at times, you are so strong and brave." A corner of his mouth tugged up slightly into a small smile as he dropped one of Blaine's hands to catch a tear that had escaped Blaine's eye with his thumb. "You're going to have a wonderful, happy life."

Blinking away his tears, Blaine gave Kurt a watery smile and a whispered thank you, two words he could say to Kurt every day for the rest of his life yet still feel he hadn't told him enough.

Kurt gave his hand one last squeeze before letting it go. "And don't you dare start worrying about where you'll stay once you're ready to leave the attic," he warned. "You'll still live here, but you'll move to the spare bedroom we have."

Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt beat him to it. "Don't you dare say you can't accept that, because you can, and I know you have nowhere else to go anyway. I know I can't force you to stay, but I'm not letting you turn it down just because you think it's too much. And don't worry about my family either, they'll be fine with it," he added.

Blaine shook his head, knowing there was no point in arguing with him, not when Kurt's jaw was set and there was a determined glint in his eye. "You're quite bossy, you know," he told him teasingly and noticed Kurt relax with relief.

"Yes," Kurt replied with a small smirk, "I've been told so several times in the past. I'm quite stubborn."

Blaine chuckled, breaking off to cough after a couple of seconds. "I've noticed," he remarked when his coughing died down.

"You ok?" Kurt asked him.

Nodding, Blaine swallowed, trying to alleviate some of the dryness in his throat. "I'm fine."

Satisfied, Kurt started to tell him about how his Glee club's preparations for Sectionals were going and Blaine tried to ignore the tickling in his throat until it became so persistent that he had to cough again. He hoped he wasn't falling ill; his throat had been feeling a little dry all day and it had taken him longer than normal to become fully awake in the morning. He had managed to not get anything worse than a mild cold since he left home and he hoped his good immunity would keep up. The last thing he wanted was to need a doctor. That would induce a whole lot of questions and problems he really didn't want to deal with.

His hopes began to look more unlikely as the night went on – the need to cough occurred more regularly, although he tried to resist as much as possible while Kurt was still with him so as to not worry him; his throat stayed persistently dry no matter how much water he drank; his head began to feel a little heavy after Kurt left for bed. When he went to bed he clung to the hope that it would pass by morning.

It didn't clear overnight; in fact, it got worse. Blaine woke with a rough, dry throat, a pounding headache, and the beginnings of a fever. He groaned and rolled over, smothering a racking cough with his hand, and kicked his blankets off him. He just hoped he would improve enough to look relatively human by the time Kurt came to visit him at night.

Worse than being ill was being ill alone, and it was with another groan that Blaine sat up and staggered to his feet with another cough. He just wanted to stay in bed all day, but he had to get up and go through his usual routine down in the house. Washing his face failed to make him feel more awake and brushing his teeth took a lot longer than usual. When he was finished he wanted nothing more than to just go back to bed and stay there for the rest of the day, but he had no choice, he had to plough on as normal.

He was halfway through getting ready to go downstairs when there came a light knock on the attic door. It opened and Kurt appeared carrying a breakfast tray. Blaine squinted groggily at him in confusion until he realised that today was Saturday and Kurt didn't have school.

"Morning!" Kurt greeted him cheerfully. "Everyone else is out, so-" He broke off, taking in Blaine's dishevelled appearance. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. He set the tray down and moved closer to Blaine to take in his appearance more closely. "Are you sick?"

Turning away from Kurt and coughing, Blaine nodded. "Yeah," he croaked when he'd recovered. He wiped at his eyes, which were watering from his coughing fit. When Kurt took a step closer to him, he backed away, holding his hands up to ward him off. "I don't want you catching it," he said in a rough voice.

"I just need to quickly check something," Kurt said, approaching him again and laying the back of his hand gently across Blaine's forehead. Blaine whimpered at the coolness of his hand against his own skin and Kurt's face creased with concern. "You're burning up." He stepped back and Blaine almost whimpered again at the loss. "You can't stay up here by yourself like this," Kurt said, turning to pick up the breakfast tray again. "You can come down into my room."

Blaine balked, shaking his head. "I can't," he protested with another cough.

"Blaine, you're not staying here while you're sick," Kurt argued. "The rest of my family is out for the day; it will be ok."

Blaine coughed again and felt Kurt take his free hand and lead him down to the attic door. Before Kurt opened it he looked to Blaine to check he was ok with this, not wanting to push him into something he wasn't comfortable with.

Unable to speak, Blaine nodded his assent. If Kurt said it would be fine then he trusted it would be. Plus he really didn't want to spend the day in the attic, sick and by himself.

Kurt led him into his bedroom, set the breakfast tray on his vanity and pulled back the covers of his neatly-made bed. "Here," he said, gently pushing Blaine down on the bed.

It was the first proper bed Blaine had been on in over half a year and he sighed at how soft and comfortable it was – a vast improvement to his makeshift bed up in the attic. He collapsed back against the pillows, his eyes falling shut immediately, and held back a soft moan. They smelled amazing, like Kurt, simultaneously soothing him and making his pulse race.

"Thank you," he rasped as Kurt tugged the covers over him. A hand stroked through his hair and he sighed at the feeling.

There was the sound of footsteps shuffling away and then they returned about a minute later. "Blaine?" Kurt said softly. "Can you sit up a second to take some medicine?"

Holding back a groan of protest, Blaine sat up and accepted the glass of water and the pills handed to him.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink now?" Kurt asked quietly. "Or do you just want to sleep?"

"Sleep," Blaine mumbled, already feeling himself drifting towards unconsciousness.

Kurt's hand brushed curls back from his forehead. "Sleep then; you can eat when you wake up."

Blaine thought he felt soft lips being pressed to his burning forehead, followed by a hand smoothing his cheek before he heard Kurt move away from the bed, but it may have just been the fever warping together his wistful fantasies and reality.

* * *

**A/N: **This is a little later than what I'd hoped, but hopefully the chapter makes up for it?!

Poor Blainers is ill :( I'm really not giving him an easy time, but he's in Kurt's bed so I'm sure he's not too mad at me ;)

Thanks for reading and for all of the wonderful reviews you guys have been leaving! :)

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex!

I have no idea when the next chapter will be up as nearly all my coursework for the semester is due within the next few weeks along with a few tests thrown in for extra fun, but hopefully it will be up within the next week.


	11. Chapter 11

A harsh cough made Kurt look up from his homework, and he winced in sympathy for Blaine as the other boy was subjected to another coughing fit. Setting his pen down, Kurt got to his feet and slowly approached his bed, where Blaine was curled in on himself as he coughed repeatedly into his hand, barely getting time to breathe in between the coughs that scraped his already raw throat. He hovered a few feet away from the bed, wanting to approach Blaine and comfort him, but knowing it was for the best that he kept a safe distance away – they'd be in trouble if they both fell ill. So instead he stood and watched with his face creased in concern as his friend continued to cough with an arm wrapped protectively around his stomach and his eyes watering. He had hoped Blaine might be showing signs of improvement after some medicine and sleep, but if anything he seemed worse.

When Blaine's coughing finally subsided and he was wiping the tears from his eyes, Kurt moved over to the bed and placed a hand on Blaine's forehead, causing the sick boy to sigh. "I think your fever has gone down a bit," Kurt told him, keeping his hand on Blaine's forehead as the shorter boy leaned into the touch with his eyes closed.

"The coughing is worse, though," Blaine rasped and Kurt winced again on his behalf.

Rubbing Blaine's head with his thumb, Kurt nodded. "We've got some cough syrup you can take to help that, but-" He paused for a second, knowing Blaine wouldn't like what he was about to say. "I think you should go see a doctor if it doesn't improve."

As he had anticipated, Blaine's eyes widened in fear and he shook his head in wild panic, jerking away from Kurt's touch. "I can't!" he croaked. "They'll just ask all these questions and I can't deal with that, Kurt, not yet." He looked up at Kurt with large eyes, silently pleading him not to go through that and pain pierced Kurt's heart again.

"Ok, no doctors," Kurt conceded, stroking Blaine's messy curls back from his face soothingly. "Unless," he added firmly, "it gets worse. I'm not watching you suffer, Blaine."

After Blaine had given a small nod of assent, Kurt stepped away from the bed. "Do you want something to eat now?" he asked, starting to walk over to the bedroom door. "You really should try and eat something. I can make you soup."

Struggling to sit upright, Blaine gave a small cough and said, "I'll eat something, but you don't have to make me soup."

"I'll make you soup," Kurt told him and left the room before Blaine could protest.

He ran down the stairs to the kitchen and began grabbing things out of cupboards, not wanting to be away from Blaine for too long. Something about seeing the already vulnerable boy more helpless kicked his protective instincts into overdrive and he could barely stand to let the sick boy out of his sight for any length of time. Normally he didn't cope well with sick people – when Finn had fallen ill one time not long after he had moved in with them he had refused to go anywhere near him and had slept on the couch in the living room until Finn was better again – but for some reason with Blaine it was different; he wanted to nurse him back to health and felt no fear that he might catch whatever he had. He wouldn't even care if Blaine was vomiting. The only other person for whom he had felt this strong need to do anything and everything he could to make them better, where he had completely disregarded his own day-to-day life in favour of caring for them twenty-four-seven, was his dad. He didn't really understand why Blaine was different to his step-brother and his other friends.

After putting the soup he had made earlier on to reheat, he hunted through the medicine cabinet for the cough syrup, filled a glass with water, and placed them both on a tray along with a soup bowl and spoon. He drummed his fingers on the counter, darting looks up at the ceiling every now and then as he waited for the soup to heat up. As soon as it was hot enough he switched the stove off, ladled some into the bowl, and bustled back upstairs with the tray.

Blaine blinked at him from where he was curled up on his side under the covers. "How did you manage to make soup so quickly?" he asked a little suspiciously.

Kurt shot him a slightly sheepish grin. "I may have made the soup earlier while you were asleep," he admitted.

Blaine simply gazed at him for a moment, his eyes containing a hint of the same thing Kurt had seen so many times in the early weeks of their acquaintance that he now recognised as a heart-breaking mixture of wonder, disbelief, and pain; even after all this time Blaine still couldn't quite believe that someone cared about him or that he deserved all of this.

When Blaine didn't say anything and instead just lowered his eyes to stare down at the mattress, Kurt set the tray on his dresser and sat down on the bed by Blaine's feet, which were tucked up close to his body.

"Blaine," he said softly, the affection he felt for the curly-haired boy coming through in his tone, so strong that he was surprised as much as Blaine, who looked up with eyes full of surprise, curiosity, and self-depreciation. Kurt had the strong urge to curl up on the bed and pull Blaine into his arms, but settled for placing his hand on his foot over the covers. "You're not worthless or a burden or unworthy of- of love," he told him firmly, trying and failing not to stumble over his words as his hidden feelings for Blaine rushed to the surface. "You deserve it all – everything." He rubbed at Blaine's foot, feeling the curve of the delicate bones through the blanket. "You deserve to have people who care about you make you dinner and bring you medicine when you're sick, you deserve to be able to work to live your dreams, and you deserve to have people in your life who love you so much they'd do anything to make you happy and safe."

He didn't realise there were tears pooling in his eyes until he noticed Blaine's eyes were red and tear-filled, but he was beginning to realise that when he talked about love in reference to Blaine he was thinking about himself as he did so. It hit him right then in a rush: he had fallen for Blaine – hard. And every minute he spent with Blaine he fell a little more.

Blinking away his tears, Blaine pushed himself into an upright position. "Kurt," he said roughly, managing to hold back a cough, "I don't know what I'd do without you in my life anymore. I don't know how I managed so long without you, and it's not just food or the blanket or anything, it's-" He broke off, struggling for words. He rubbed at his fever-pink cheek. "I really care about you and I like to think that if my life situation had been different we still would have met and become friends."

Kurt smiled at him and squeezed his foot again. "Of course we would have. Something would have ensured that – the stars, the fates, random chance, whatever. We were meant to meet, Blaine, I believe that."

"Me too," Blaine whispered.

Like it had done the night they laid together under the stars, the air between them became charged, heavy with something Kurt couldn't name. Desire flooded his stomach, making his heart race and his nerves tingle in anticipation. He was extremely aware of every tiny movement Blaine made: pupils dilating slightly, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, eyes dropping briefly from Kurt's before returning to hold his gaze again, the small stuttering movement of his chest near his collarbone as he breathed unevenly…

Kurt darted his gaze down to Blaine's lips – pink, a little chapped, and parted an infinitesimal amount – for a split second. He imagined himself leaning forward and pressing his lips to Blaine's. He wanted to, he wanted to _so badly_, he wanted to feel those lips beneath his own, the slight roughness of the dry skin contrasting with the smooth softness of the rest of his lips, the warmth of his breath against his mouth, his unique scent filling his nostrils, the taste of him on his tongue…

Just like last time, they both looked away at almost the exact same moment, Kurt ducking his head and quickly removing his hand from Blaine's foot as warmth flooded his face and spilled down his neck. He needed to control his emotions and vivid imagination better or else Blaine would find out that he wanted more than friendship with him and that would just open up a whole can of worms that Kurt didn't want to have to face.

He was brought out of his own confusing and conflicting emotions when Blaine gave a small cough, one that was made voluntarily to help disperse some of the awkwardness. Kurt jumped to his feet and hurried over to the dresser to fetch the tray, glad that the soup hadn't gotten cold.

"Um, here's your soup," he said lamely, setting the tray down on the nightstand and darting forward to help adjust Blaine's pillows when he noticed the other boy struggling to sit comfortably. He blushed and jerked his hands back when his fingers brushed Blaine's shoulder.

'Get a grip, Hummel,' he chastised himself as he passed Blaine the tray with trembling hands. Being around Blaine had always been so easy and comfortable ever since they had started to open up to each other; he didn't want to suddenly make it uncomfortable just because he couldn't control himself.

He inhaled deeply as he removed the cough syrup from the tray. "Do you want to have the medicine before or after you eat?"

Glancing at the bottle in Kurt's hands, Blaine wrinkled his nose – Kurt pushed down the urge to kiss his crinkled nose; that boy was far too adorable for his own good.

"After," Blaine decided, eyeing the medicine bottle with distaste. "I don't want it to ruin the taste of your soup," he concluded brightly.

"It could be awful," Kurt pointed out. "You haven't tried it yet."

Blaine lifted his eyebrows and gave him a disbelieving look before taking his first spoonful of soup, sighing slightly as the warm liquid soothed his raw throat.

Kurt moved back to his desk and returned to the homework he had been working through earlier, strangely enjoying the small sounds of Blaine eating his soup in the background. For some reason it made better background noise to his studying than his iPod did; it was more relaxing somehow.

A small choking noise followed by a weird gagging sound made him look up from his math homework and whip round to see Blaine pulling a disgusted face as he screwed the lid back on the bottle of cough syrup.

"God, that stuff is revolting," he said with a shudder as he set the bottle aside on the nightstand. He began hastily gulping water. "I was right to have the soup first." He grimaced while Kurt watched him with his head tilted a little to one side, an amused smile on his face. "I can't get the taste out of my mouth – and what are you smirking about?" Blaine huffed, trying to sound reproachful but failing when he croaked mid-sentence. Kurt's smile widened.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Blaine jutted his bottom lip out in a pout. "It's not funny!" he whined. "I'm sick! You shouldn't laugh at sick people!"

Biting back a laugh, Kurt stood up and walked over to take the tray away. "Sorry, but if you could have seen your face you would have laughed as well."

Blaine just huffed again, but Kurt could see a smile twitching the corners of his mouth.

"Plus your voice sounds weird, so almost anything you say sounds funny," Kurt added as he set the tray down on the dresser. He walked over to his neat rows of books lining several shelves of a cabinet. "Do you want a book to read?" he asked, scanning the rows of books and trying to remember which ones Blaine had mentioned he'd read. His gaze wandered down and landed on his DVD collection. "Or you could watch a movie? It must have been a while since you last watched one." He bent down to tug a selection of DVDs from the stacks on the bottom shelf. "What sort of movies do you like?" he asked, straightening up and turning to face Blaine.

Blaine looked away quickly, shifting his gaze from Kurt to his blanket-covered legs stretched out in front of him, and scratched at his knee. "Uh, ju- just whatever you have is fine, but if you're doing homework then I don't want to bother you with a movie," he stammered, his gaze still fixed determinedly on his knees as a blush coloured his face.

Feeling a little perplexed at Blaine's sudden bout of embarrassment, Kurt shrugged. "You won't be bothering me," he assured him. "If you want to watch a movie for a change then you can."

Blaine lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug which Kurt took to be a yes to the movie. He set a selection of movies on the bed so Blaine could choose one. He blinked in surprise when Blaine held up the box that he'd picked – it was _The Notebook_.

"You want to watch _this_ when you're sick?"

Blaine glanced down at the box in his hand and just shrugged. "I used to watch movies like this a lot when I was sick. It's beautifully sad and – I don't know – it just makes me feel a little better somehow."

Shaking his head at him, Kurt took the DVD and went to put it on. "I'll take your word for it, but I still think you're crazy. You should watch happy, light-hearted movies when you're sick, like musicals." He stepped away from the TV when the main menu appeared on the screen and tossed the remote to Blaine. "If it makes you feel better, though, then I won't think you're a little strange," he teased. "Enjoy." He plopped down at his desk chair with a heavy sigh. "It'll be a lot more enjoyable than this math homework."

Years of tuning out sneering insults had turned Kurt into something of an expert at being able to ignore distractions and concentrate on the task at hand. He worked steadily through his homework without looking up from it once and got it all finished before Blaine's movie was even over.

He was just closing his last book and setting it aside with an accomplished smile when he heard a soft sniffling sound from behind him. He spun around in his chair, already knowing what he was going to find, and his face softened and heart melted at the sight before him. Blaine had his knees drawn up to his chest and the bed covers were rucked up just under his chin, his mouth pressed into the knuckles of his hands, which were curled in front of his face. His eyes were red-rimmed and glossy with tears, his forehead creased, and tear tracks glistened on his cheeks as he continued to stare intently at the screen. As Kurt watched, he sniffed again and another tear escaped from one of his eyes and began its slow journey down his face. An unfamiliar mixture of emotions stirred inside Kurt; even crying Blaine was beautiful and even though his tears weren't the result of something bad, Kurt still felt the strong need to hold him, protect him, and replace the tears with a smile.

Without saying anything, Kurt joined Blaine on the bed, sitting next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Blaine slumped against him, his head resting against Kurt's upper arm just below his shoulder and they both watched the remainder of the movie in silence, Kurt paying more attention to Blaine's little sniffles, stifled coughs, and the warmth of his body than the actual movie.

When the credits started to roll on the screen, Blaine shifted against him and Kurt looked down to see him lifting a hand to wipe the tears from his face. Without thinking about it, Kurt reached over and gently caught the last tear with the pad of his thumb. They were so close he was able to hear Blaine's breath hitch slightly as his hazel eyes lifted to his face.

And there it was again: that want – that _need_ – that was now stirring more regularly and persistently inside of him. And he would have done it right then, would have bent down and brushed his mouth over Blaine's like every muscle in his body was straining to do, but Blaine was sick. Even if he was confident that Blaine wanted it as well – which he wasn't in the slightest – he doubted Blaine would have allowed him to kiss him and risk catching his illness. Kurt was forced to break the moment before he acted on his impulses.

"Did it make you feel better?" he asked softly, indicating the TV still showing the end credits with a small wave of the hand that wasn't resting on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine looked away towards the screen. "It did, actually." He coughed again. "Not physically, though, just mentally."

Grabbing the remote from where it laid on the rumpled bed covers, Kurt stopped the DVD. "Do you want to watch another movie?"

Blaine shook his head and it was only then that Kurt noticed his drooping eyelids and the yawns he was hiding behind his hand. "I think I want to sleep again." He yawned again, rubbing his cheek against Kurt's shoulder in what could have been accidental or something done unconsciously in his drowsiness.

"Ok," Kurt said, reluctantly starting to wriggle away from Blaine. "I'll give you the bed back." He paused in the midst of climbing off the bed, laughing as a sudden thought occurred to him.

"What?" Blaine mumbled, his hand jumping self-consciously to his hair.

Kurt shook his head, still smiling. "I just realised there's a boy in my bed."

Blaine looked a little baffled, but a grin spread across his face all the same. "I doubt-" He broke off, the colour draining from his face, and his smile fading as his head snapped towards the closed bedroom door.

Frowning, Kurt glanced between the door and Blaine in confusion. "Blaine, what-?"

Then he heard it: footsteps. His eyes widened. "Shit," he muttered. He checked the clock on his nightstand and cursed himself for not keeping track of the time – everyone else would be home by now. They both must have been so caught up with the movie and their conversation they didn't hear them arrive.

"Kurt?" his dad's voice called from the hallway.

Blaine shrank back into the pillows at the sound of Burt's voice, drawing his legs up close to his chest and curling in on himself. He gazed at Kurt in fear, mutely begging him to keep him safe and hidden. He was shaking, Kurt noticed in dismay.

"It's ok," Kurt assured him in a low voice. "I won't let anyone know you're here." He wanted to touch Blaine's shoulder or smooth his forehead in reassurance, but he was scared of touching him when the other boy was so terrified.

There was a knock at the door. "Kurt?"

Blaine flinched, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself from making any noise and Kurt leapt from the bed and sprinted across the room, calling out to his dad that he was coming.

He pulled his bedroom door open, not opening it too far and trying not to look guilty. "Hey Dad," he greeted with a smile. "I didn't hear you guys get home – I was busy with homework."

His dad nodded. "Was it that essay you were talking about at breakfast?" he asked, not looking the least bit suspicious to Kurt's enormous relief.

"Yeah," Kurt replied, thanking his lucky stars that he had some natural acting ability and was able to mask his relief. "Yeah, it was. I just finished it, actually."

"That's good," his dad said slowly. "So, since you're free, do you want to come down and join us? Carole's about to put on some movie she bought today – I don't know, it looks like it would be your sort of thing."

The urge to glance over his shoulder at Blaine was almost overwhelming, but Kurt forced himself to continue facing his father. "Um, I don't know, I'm a little tired…" He trailed off, not really knowing what else to say.

His dad just shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. "Just come down if you feel like it, kiddo."

Kurt nodded and smiled as his dad gave his shoulder a light squeeze and headed off back downstairs. As soon as the sound of his footsteps faded, he spun around and closed the door behind him, finally letting his sigh of relief escape.

"You don't have to stay up here with me."

Kurt turned to face the bed to see Blaine watching him from above his knees and the covers he'd pulled up to his chin. Beneath his mop of messy dark curls his eyes were starting to lose the fear. He appeared to have stopped trembling, though the colour had yet to return to his face.

"You shouldn't miss out on spending time with your family just to sit with me," Blaine continued.

Kurt didn't like his tone at all; it made him want to run over and cradle Blaine against his chest, and also collapse to his knees on the floor and cry because he was starting to wonder if anything he could ever do or say would convince Blaine that he wasn't some insignificant part of Kurt's life that he only spent time with and befriended because he felt bad about his situation.

He didn't do either of those things; instead he crossed the room to his bed and sat down on the edge of it, feeling a little weary. Blaine wasn't looking at him anymore; he was tracing abstract patterns across his left knee with his thumb. Kurt wanted to say something to promise him that his family wouldn't harm him or toss him out on the streets and he desperately wanted to say something to help make the inner demons Blaine was battling go away, but he couldn't find the words, so he slid closer to him and wrapped his arms around him, pulling the smaller boy against his chest.

Blaine was rigid for a moment, before he relaxed and leant into Kurt's embrace, freeing his right arm from the covers to hook it around Kurt's waist. Neither of them said anything, they just held each other until Kurt felt Blaine's body spasm slightly as he tried to hold in his coughs.

Kurt let him go and Blaine ducked his head away to cough into his hand, shooting Kurt an apologetic look when they subsided.

Smiling softly at him, Kurt gently brushed a few wayward curls back from Blaine's face.

Noticing the look in Kurt's eyes, Blaine murmured, "It's just hard."

Kurt nodded, letting his hand linger by Blaine's face and ghosting his thumb over part of his cheekbone. "I know it must be," he whispered, "I will never try to pressure you into anything or think any less of you if you take a long time to be ready. You haven't had it easy; life hasn't treated you fairly at all, but I believe in you. You have so much courage, Blaine and one day other people in the world are going to be able to see what a wonderful person you are – I believe that."

Blaine returned his smile and Kurt was glad to see that the colour had returned to his face and there was light in his eyes again, if somewhat drowsy.

"You should go watch that movie with your family," Blaine insisted. "I'm just going to sleep again and as long as nobody else comes in here I'll be fine by myself."

Kurt stood up, still feeling a little reluctant to leave. "No one else will come in," he promised. He watched as Blaine laid down and adjusted the covers over himself, smiling sleepily up at Kurt once he was comfortable. "Drop something heavy on the floor if you need something and I'll come back up."

"I'll be fine, Kurt, don't worry." Blaine blinked lazily at him.

Kurt tugged the covers up over Blaine's shoulder and Blaine's eyes fluttered closed. "Sweet dreams," he murmured, bending down and brushing a light kiss to Blaine's forehead before he had time to chicken out. After one last fond look at the boy curled up in his bed, he turned and left the room.

* * *

When Blaine woke up some time later to find that his throat felt less like someone had dragged sandpaper over it, he was relieved. He had always hated being sick; illness was another expression of one of the things his dad despised: weakness. Whenever Blaine or anyone else in the family got sick they carried on as normal, and his dad would yell at him or Cooper if they tried to stay in bed – he would say they were being lazy and the best way to get better was to carry on rather than lounge around in bed snivelling and coughing. This meant that any time Blaine was sick he had to continue going to school, helping with chores, and studying, all without complaining, no matter how awful he felt. If he didn't get better after a few days then he would be taken to the doctor and given the rest of the day to relax in his room, but he was never treated differently just because he was ill and eventually he learned to just hide it whenever he was sick unless it was bad enough for a doctor's visit.

Rolling over onto his other side, he rubbed his cheek against the pillow. It was gloriously warm in the bed, the mattress had to be the most comfortable thing he had ever laid on, the pillows were soft and seemed to cradle his head, the covers were fluffy and just the right thickness, and everything smelled amazing: a delicious mixture of sweetness, spice, and something he couldn't put a name to that was decidedly masculine and somehow both comforting and stomach-fluttering.

He inhaled deeply, breathing more of the intoxicating scent in and wrapping an arm around the pillow where the scent was the strongest. He lifted his other arm to rest his hand up by the pillow and froze when it brushed against something solid and warm. That's when it hit him: the comfortable mattress and warm covers, the other body next to him, the smell – he was in Kurt's bed.

Suddenly feeling a little nervous, he opened his eyes and was met with the sight of Kurt sitting on top of the covers with his back against a propped-up pillow, a book in his hands. He smiled when he saw Blaine was awake.

"Hi," he greeted. "Good sleep?"

Nodding shyly, Blaine pulled himself upright, noticing as he did so that the room was softly lit by a lamp on the nightstand.

"Yeah," he croaked. He cleared his throat. "I did, thanks." He paused, searching the room for a clock. "What time is it?"

"Just before midnight," Kurt replied, marking the page in his book and setting it aside.

Blaine blinked in surprise. "I slept ages. You should have woken me up."

"I couldn't do that; you needed the rest," Kurt said, getting up and walking over to his dresser. "Plus, you looked really comfortable."

Blaine absently ran a hand over the mattress beside him. "Your bed is really comfortable. I could stay in it for days." He flushed as soon as the words were out of his mouth and hoped Kurt would just think of the comment as innocent.

There was a pause as Kurt rummaged around with something on his dresser, and then he chuckled lightly. "I should have known you'd want to steal it." He came back over to the bed carrying a tray. "I saved you some dinner," he said, handing the tray to Blaine.

"And some more medicine," Blaine observed, as he ran his eyes over the tray's contents.

Kurt dropped down next to him again. "It's past time you had another dose."

Swallowing the medicine, Blaine smirked at him. "Thanks, Dr. Hummel."

A light blush stained Kurt's cheeks. "Just eat your food," he mumbled.

Kurt told him about the movie he'd watched with his family while Blaine ate and had Blaine laughing at his retelling of how Finn had struggled to understand the reasoning behind some of the main character's decisions.

It wasn't until his plate was cleared and Kurt was taking it from him that Blaine realised he would have to leave the warmth and comfort of Kurt's bedroom and return to his chilly attic bed. With a heavy sigh, he pushed back the covers and went to get up.

"Where are you going?" Kurt asked.

Blaine got to his feet and stretched. "Back upstairs. You must need to go to bed now."

Kurt came marching across the room towards him, shaking his head. "Nuh uh, you're not going back up there while you're still sick."

Blaine frowned, freezing in the middle of straightening Kurt's bedding for him. "I can't stay in here! You need to go to bed and I'm _not_ forcing you to sleep somewhere else."

"You're not forcing me to do anything," Kurt insisted, sounding a touch exasperated as if he'd known this was going to happen. "I _want_ you to sleep in my bed tonight."

Fighting to keep his thoughts from twisting that sentence into something less innocent, Blaine folded his arms over his chest. "Then where will you sleep?"

Kurt shrugged, looking around his room. "I'll make up a bed on the floor or something."

Shaking his head, Blaine started across the room to the door. "You're not doing that. I'm going back upstairs."

"Wait, Blaine, no!" Kurt grabbed his arm, holding him back. "It's just while you're ill," he pleaded.

When Blaine held his ground and stared at him determinedly, Kurt let go of his arm and marched over to his bed, snatching up his pillows and dragging the covers onto the floor.

Momentarily forgetting his plan to return to the attic, Blaine watched Kurt in puzzlement. "What are you doing?"

"Compromising," Kurt told him, fetching his pyjamas from the dresser and heading into the bathroom, nudging the door closed with his hip.

Frowning, Blaine hurried over to the bathroom. "What do you mean 'compromising'?" he asked through the door.

"You won't sleep down here and I'm not leaving you on your own in that cold attic while you're ill, so I'm joining you upstairs," Kurt called back.

Blaine stared at the door for a moment, wondering if he had heard correctly. "What? Kurt, no, you don't-"

The bathroom door opened to reveal Kurt in his pyjamas with a toothbrush in his mouth. He shot Blaine a look that clearly said he wasn't going to argue about this, a look that Blaine imagined few other people could pull off while dressed in midnight blue pyjamas and brushing their teeth.

Throwing up his hands, Blaine turned away from Kurt's glare in surrender. "Fine, but you're only going to have an uncomfortable night." He leaned against the wall by the bathroom door, swallowing repeatedly to try and clear his dry throat and occasionally letting out a small cough as he waited for Kurt to finish up.

They left the warm bedroom and crept out into the dark hallway and up the stairs into the drafty attic. Blaine made a beeline for his makeshift sink and began to brush his teeth, leaving Kurt standing in the middle of the attic, studying the floor around Blaine's bed. As Blaine watched, Kurt dropped his pile of bedding a few feet away from his own bed and began to spread his duvet out.

"Last chance to take my bed," Kurt offered as Blaine finished washing his face.

Lifting his chin stubbornly, Blaine settled down on his bed, swallowing the cough that threatened to force its way out of his throat. "I'm fine here, thanks." He laid down, trying not to wince at how uncomfortable it was after a day in Kurt's bed, and tugged the blankets up over himself.

For several minutes there was silence except for the rustling of fabric as Kurt tried to get comfortable and a soft thud which Blaine guessed was him banging a knee or elbow against the floor. He heard Kurt huff, then, "Oh, this is _ridiculous_."

More rustling of fabric, the soft padding of feet on the floorboards, a dragging sound, and then Kurt was suddenly tugging his blanket off him.

Blaine was so startled he just let the blanket be dragged off him. "Kurt, what?" He scrambled into a sitting position and squinted to make Kurt out in the dim light.

"Stand up a second," Kurt said, fiddling with the blanket in his hands.

Shocked into submission, Blaine stood up and watched in confusion as Kurt spread out the blanket he'd pulled off him over the two already lying on the floor, tossed his pillows down next to Blaine's far less plump one, and threw his duvet down over the lot.

"Wh-"

Before he got a chance to finish his question, Kurt had grabbed his hand and tugged him down with him onto the pile of blankets. "It's seems stupid for us to shiver and be uncomfortable when we can share a bed and _not_ suffer," he explained, pulling the covers from his own bed up over both of them and lying down.

Blaine stared down at him, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. "But I'm sick," he reminded Kurt weakly.

"I really don't care," Kurt told him, tugging at Blaine's arm to get him to lie down. "Plus, I've been around you all day, so if I'm going to catch it then I'll have done so already."

After another second's hesitation, Blaine laid down carefully next to Kurt, keeping his arms and legs close by his side and hardly daring to breathe. His own racing heartbeat sounded loud in the silence that followed and when he gave another small cough it seemed to echo around the whole attic. He lay there for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes until he couldn't fight it anymore and glanced over at Kurt.

The taller boy was on his side and gazing at him; Blaine could see the gleam of his eyes and curve of his jaw in the dim light from the small windows. The sight of him lying there only inches away, with locks of hair falling over his forehead and a soft smile on his face, sent a shiver down Blaine's spine.

"Are you cold?" Kurt asked, propping himself up on an elbow. Without giving Blaine a chance to respond he shuffled closer. "Is this ok?" he whispered, his breath ghosting over Blaine's face – he smelled of mint on top of his usual scent.

Swallowing, Blaine nodded and rolled off his back onto his side so he was facing away from Kurt in case he coughed during the night. He didn't even try to hold back the content sigh that escaped him when Kurt curled up behind him, his chest pressed against his back, his arm draped over his waist. He had never imagined it could be so comfortable sleeping on the hard attic floor, but he was warm and just as comfortable as he had been in Kurt's bed earlier.

A sudden thought occurred to him. "We could have both just slept in your bed," he pointed out.

There were a few seconds of silence, then, "Go to sleep, Blaine."

* * *

**A/N: **Oh, boys, you're both just so ridiculous and oblivious. And Blaine, even being sick doesn't stop you from checking out Kurt's ass.

Nice long chapter to make up for the less frequent updates you guys have been getting lately!

Once again, thank you all for reading and for leaving reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex!

All I have to say about the next chapter is :)


	12. Chapter 12

Scratching the side of his nose with the end of his pen, Blaine scanned a page of the math syllabus for senior year students at McKinley High School and was pleased to note that he had now covered all the topics that everyone else in the year had done so far. He had officially enrolled at McKinley a few days ago and Kurt had brought him the syllabus for each subject, along with a pile of folders full of notes and work for him to do, plus several textbooks. Since then he had been working through it all every day, handing Kurt any problem sheets or essays the teachers wanted from him to hand in to the school – he would receive his graded work from Kurt once it had been marked. It made the once long days fly by and he was glad to have actual goals in life again, to have things to look forward to and aim towards. His life had direction again.

He smiled around the pen he had been absently tapping against the corner of his mouth when there was a knock at the door and Kurt entered the attic, calling out a cheerful greeting to him. It was always a nice surprise when Kurt was able to visit him once he'd arrived home from school on the days the rest of his family was out. It didn't happen often, seeing as how Finn usually came home at the same time as Kurt unless he had football practice or Kurt was spending time with his friends.

"How's the home-schooling going?" Kurt asked as he joined Blaine and peered over his shoulder at the papers spread out on the box in front of him.

Setting his pen down, Blaine began tidying the papers up. "I'm all caught up to the same level as everyone else in all subjects," he announced, a hint of pride creeping into his tone; his schoolwork had been one of the few things his parents had actually praised him on.

"That's great!" Kurt enthused. "I can't believe how quickly you did it...It's only been three days."

Blaine shrugged modestly, but pride and pleasure filled him, much stronger than it had ever done when his parents complemented his academic ability. "I have nothing else to do all day and I work fast."

Kurt's eyebrows drew together in a small frown, but before Blaine could ask him what was wrong, his expression cleared and he surveyed Blaine's work and files of notes contemplatively. "I don't know how you manage it all by yourself; I wouldn't know what to do."

Shrugging again, Blaine placed the last of his stuff into a folder and flipped it shut. "I've been teaching myself for ages. It's just become how I work now. Even before I left home I was teaching myself stuff beyond the curriculum as something to do once I'd finished my homework."

Kurt sat down next to him, leaning back against the box. "Maybe you should be the one tutoring me instead of the other way around."

Blaine just grinned and bumped his shoulder against Kurt's.

He had worried that things would become awkward between them after that night they'd spent together in the attic when he had been ill, but they'd only grown closer since.

Waking up that morning and feeling Kurt's body against his own, his breath creating a warm spot against the back of his neck, his arm curled protectively over his side and around his stomach, the steady rise and fall of his chest against his back – it had been indescribably perfect and something he wanted to imprint in his memory forever. The attic was the closest he had to somewhere safe – to home – but it had never really come close to feeling that way, not until that morning. Lying curled up with Kurt, arms holding him close, Kurt's nose occasionally nuzzling the back of his neck, he felt safe – it felt like home. And when Kurt had mumbled something indiscernible and shifted against him and he had hesitantly rolled over to face him, he had felt something he hadn't experienced for as long as he could remember: peace.

Kurt returned his smile. "Just don't push yourself too hard. You've only _just_ gotten better; you don't want to fall ill again."

"I've been healthy for days now," Blaine protested. "But don't worry, I won't." At Kurt's nod of approval, Blaine added, "You need to stop worrying about me so much, that can't be healthy for _you_."

"I don't worry _that_ much anymore," Kurt countered.

Blaine eyed him disbelievingly. "You seem to. Don't think I haven't noticed the larger servings of food you've been giving me or how you always check to make sure it isn't too cold up here before you go downstairs to bed."

Kurt shifted guiltily. "I don't want you to be cold, and you're still really thin," he justified. He took Blaine's arm and pushed the sleeve of his sweater up to reveal his wrist. "Look how skinny you are! Your wrists are _tiny_!"

Kurt's expression sobered and he studied Blaine with sad eyes. "You are, aren't you?" he said after a moment, sounding more as though he were thinking aloud than actually talking to Blaine. "You're just this small, sweet, likeable, harmless guy and yet-" He broke off, biting on his bottom lip. "I don't understand how anyone could be as cruel to you as they've been." He sniffed and gave himself a small shake, seeming to suddenly remember where he was. "Sorry, I ruined the mood, didn't I?"

Blaine said nothing to this, just watched Kurt sniff again as he smiled apologetically at him. Kurt's comment had reminded him of something he'd wanted to discuss with Kurt for a while now but had never found the moment or the nerve to do so. Now seemed like as good a time as any and he didn't particularly want to put it off much longer; he'd seen the way Kurt had winced when he'd bumped his side on the box he was leaning against earlier.

"Kurt…" he began hesitantly. When Kurt met his gaze with eyes full of encouragement and curiosity, he continued, "Are you still being harassed at school?"

Kurt's mouth opened and then closed again, his expression a mixture of wariness and reluctance, and he looked slightly taken aback as if this was the last thing he had expected Blaine to ask him about. "I- I am," he admitted eventually. "Mostly just by this one guy Karofsky, but a few of his thugs from the football team have a turn as well when they feel like it."

Hearing Kurt's admittance and seeing the way he curled in on himself and his eyes became shadowed with memories made Blaine's jaw tighten as a buzz of anger and protectiveness fizzled through him.

"Are they still just doing the same stuff as before?" he asked him. "Throwing slushies, locker shoves, name-calling?"

Kurt nodded. "Pretty much." Seeing the look on Blaine's face, he hastily added, "It's nothing I can't deal with. I'm used to it now; I can push through it. I have less than a year left at the school and then I'll be away from it all. I can cope until then," he finished determinedly.

"I wish-" Blaine sighed in aggravation. "Is there nobody at the school who could try and put a stop to it?"

Kurt shook his head. "Not really. My Glee teacher knows about it, but he's too busy with his own problems," he muttered darkly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "The cheerleading coach helped for a while, but-" He broke off, shaking his head.

"What about your friends?" Blaine pressed. "Your step-brother?"

"There's not much they can do. They offer sympathy and support when they can, but they don't really understand what it's like, I much prefer-" He cut himself off again, this time ducking his head and avoiding Blaine's gaze. "Finn's stopped them calling me names or pushing me around a few times, but he can't be with me all the time and they mostly target me when they know no one is around who might try and stop them."

Blaine felt sick. He knew lots of people suffered through this kind of torment every day and he had suffered years of it himself, but it somehow made him feel a lot more disgusted and angry hearing that Kurt was still being subjected to it. Worst of all was that Kurt had begun to just accept it. Blaine felt that way about himself, that he was unworthy of respect and love from others, and after everything with his parents and school he had accepted that nobody thought anything of him, but _Kurt_ shouldn't be feeling that way; the last thing he wanted was for Kurt to become like him.

"What about your dad and step-mom?" Blaine asked. "You're not hiding this from them, are you?" When Kurt squirmed and dropped his gaze guiltily, Blaine frowned. "Kurt, you have to tell them! They need to know that it's still going on and how bad it is."

Kurt looked up again, looking anguished. "I know I should, but my dad had a heart attack last year and I don't want him under too much strain and this will just make him worry." He twisted his hands in his lap. "I could tell Carole, I suppose," he decided.

Blaine wished he wasn't so scared of leaving this attic. He wished he was brave enough to leave the house in daylight and face people other than Kurt. He would go to school with Kurt and protect him from the ignorant thugs who tried to shove him into lockers or harass him in any other way. He would be there at Kurt's side as a constant reminder that he wasn't alone, that he was loved and understood and respected, and that not everyone in the world was like those homophobic assholes at his school.

He sighed in regret and annoyance at his own weakness. "I wish I was able to go to school with you and stop them from treating you like that."

"You _are_ able," Kurt corrected. "You're just not ready yet." A small smile appeared on his face. "And don't worry, I'll talk to Carole and try and get it stopped."

"You shouldn't have to try," Blaine said miserably. "If the teachers at these schools really cared about the students like they're supposed to, people like us would be able to get an education without being _scared_ all day."

Kurt reached out and placed his hand over one of Blaine's, squeezing it gently. "I know it sucks, but there's not really much we can do. I want to make it possible for people to go to school without fear of being taunted and harassed and I bring up the situation at every opportunity I can, but it's hard on your own, especially when they want solid evidence to prove what I'm saying is true and no one who sees is willing to back me up."

Taking in Kurt's dejected posture and weak smile, Blaine was filled with determination. "I'm going to get out of this attic and join you at school and I'm going to help you with this," he said with conviction. "I hate seeing you like this and I really hate sitting here during the day knowing what you're facing at school."

Giving his hand another squeeze, one side of Kurt's mouth lifted. "I appreciate that, but I don't want you to rush into something you aren't ready for."

But Blaine was possessed with the fierce determination to do this, to finally leave the attic, to start interacting with other people again, to be with Kurt at his school before the harassment reached the level it had at his school.

"I want to start living my life again," he told Kurt, holding the taller boy's gaze as he returned the pressure of his hand, drawing from him the courage to take his first big steps toward returning to everyday society again. "I don't want to hide away up here anymore, and the longer I stay up here the harder it will be for me to leave."

Some of the concern was fading from Kurt's eyes, the determination in Blaine's expression and the force behind his words helping to somewhat alleviate Kurt's fears.

"You've given me the strength to be able to do this, Kurt," Blaine continued, his tone softer than it had been before. "Your support, and encouragement, and friendship...I can't even begin to tell you how helpful you've been in getting me to this point."

Tears were filling Kurt's eyes and Blaine's emotions were threatening to choke him up. He paused for a moment to breathe deeply and try to regain some control; it was important for him to say all of this.

"If it wasn't for you…" Blaine shook his head. "I don't know where I'd be now. I told myself in the early days after leaving home that I'd be able to make a new life for myself, but that became less of a possibility with each passing day. But then you showed up-" a smile twitched on Blaine's face at the memory- "and everything changed. You didn't tell anyone I was up here or kick me out on the streets. You brought me food, clothes, books, blankets, company, friendship, and a possibility of a future and I can never thank you enough for that."

His voice was rough and choked. Tears were shining on Kurt's cheeks.

"Kurt, you're just…" He trailed off, shaking his head, unable to think of the words. "You have such a big heart and if I could have half of your courage and kindness I would be happy." He swallowed thickly and whispered, "I'm so glad to have you in my life."

Kurt was staring at him with an intense, unreadable expression in his tear-filled eyes. He had gone very still during Blaine's speech and his gaze never once wavered from Blaine's face. "Blaine," he whispered. "I-" He opened and closed his mouth and then dropped Blaine's hand before leaning forwards and wrapping his arms around him.

Blaine slid his arms around Kurt's waist, tucking his chin over his shoulder and closing his eyes as he held the other boy close. Kurt squeezed him lightly; then, after a moment, pulled back a little to meet his gaze. "You are just as brave as I am," he told him. "I don't think I could have survived everything you have, never mind come through it all still a sweet, genuine guy like you are. I knew that you were someone different, someone special – that's why I kept your secret." He lifted his right hand off Blaine's shoulder to brush a curl out of Blaine's eyes. "You're special, Blaine," he whispered.

Blaine clutched at Kurt's back a little tighter and he sighed softly when Kurt's hand skimmed his cheek as he moved it to rest it on his shoulder again. They were only inches apart, still holding each other's gazes and something flickered between them. Kurt's eyes lowered briefly and he leaned a little closer, his breath ghosting over Blaine's mouth and cheek.

"Can I?" Kurt asked quietly, his eyes seeking Blaine's permission.

Unable to speak, Blaine simply nodded, his pulse racing and his arms trembling as Kurt slowly closed the space between them, brushing his lips lightly over Blaine's, still giving him the chance to back away if it was too much. When Blaine's eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into Kurt's touch, Kurt kissed him again. This kiss was more than just a light touch; this time Blaine could feel the soft silkiness of Kurt's lips, could taste him on his tongue: coffee, a faint sweetness, and a delicious, unique taste that could only be _Kurt_. This time, Blaine kissed him back, massaging Kurt's lips with his own and tentatively parting his lips further as Kurt kissed him harder, inhaling sharply through his nose when Kurt sucked gently on his bottom lip. He exhaled shakily when they parted and kept his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against Kurt's, continuing to float in the rush of emotion, affection, closeness, _Kurt_.

"I'm so glad to have you in my life," Kurt echoed in a murmur.

The sense of belonging and being wanted filled the last of the dark, achingly lonely voids inside of him and Blaine felt stronger and braver than he had ever felt in his life.

* * *

Kurt had spent many a boring class at school or a night lying in bed unable to fall asleep fantasizing about kissing Blaine, and while the feeling of Blaine's lips against his own had far exceeded any wistful fantasy his imagination had conjured up, the aftermath of their kiss was completely different to what Kurt had imagined, and not in a good way.

Their behaviour around each other had barely changed: they hadn't kissed again except for a few pecks on the cheek or forehead, which weren't much more than friendly, and they didn't really act any differently. They sometimes held hands and had cuddled together a few times, but it was not what Kurt had expected at all; it was almost as if they had never even kissed. It was confusing, but while Kurt felt more comfortable with taking Blaine's hand or resting his head on his shoulder, he was a bit uncertain with initiating another kiss between them. He wasn't exactly sure why, but he figured it was because he wanted to give Blaine a bit of space while he was preparing to take his first steps towards leaving the attic for good. This was a big moment for him, one that still scared him, and the last thing Kurt wanted to do was add something else onto his already full plate. Though Blaine had returned his kiss, he still wasn't sure Blaine was quite ready for a relationship on top of everything else just now. He decided to let Blaine be the none to initiate any further advances in their relationship; that way he would know Blaine was ready.

As part of Blaine working towards leaving the attic permanently, he had been spending most of the time when Kurt's family was out down in the house, mostly in Kurt's bedroom, though he now ate any meal he had during this time in the kitchen and they would occasionally sit in the living room and watch TV or a movie. It didn't take long for Blaine to become comfortable with this, and after less than a week he was helping Kurt cook in the kitchen and flopping down on Kurt's bed with an exclamation of relief after finishing a particularly long essay for English. Because of this, Blaine had decided he was ready for the next step: meeting Rachel.

Kurt had debated long and hard about who would be the first person Blaine met and had ruled out his family members straight away; he didn't want Blaine's living situation to be brought up while he was so vulnerable.

Remembering Blaine's reaction to the sound of Burt coming up the stairs and knowing his past history with his dad and the jocks at his old school, Kurt had decided one of his female friends would probably be best to begin with and as she was Kurt's best friend, Rachel had been the obvious person he thought of. Despite being quite loud, bossy, and a lot to take in, Rachel was relatively unthreatening with her small stature and her ability to comfort people when they most needed it, and Kurt was hoping Blaine would be at ease in her presence. Rachel was also trustworthy: she had kept everything to herself that Kurt had asked her not to share and he knew she would never breathe a word about Blaine to anyone if he told her not to. Now all he had to do was tell her his, Blaine's, and his house's biggest secret.

Twisting the end of his scarf nervously between his fingers, Kurt watched the people entering and exiting the Lima Bean as he waited for Rachel to appear. He had called her yesterday and asked her to meet up for coffee, not revealing that he was planning on telling her a huge, shocking secret – he didn't want to get into any details over the phone.

He glanced at the time on his phone again as he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. She had said that she might be late since she was coming straight from dance class, but he wished she wasn't. Lifting his coffee cup to his mouth with trembling hands, he took a shaky sip and went back to staring at the door again.

Blaine had seemed fairly calm when Kurt visited him briefly that morning, the paleness of his face and silence as he ate the breakfast Kurt brought him the only signs of his nerves. Kurt had promised to go straight up to see him as soon as he got home to tell him how it went and he had given the shorter boy a reassuring hug before he left, his stomach churning with anxiety. He wanted this to go smoothly _so badly_, he wanted Blaine to start living his dreams again, and how soon that would be possible all depended on how Rachel reacted.

Gripping his coffee cup tightly, Kurt inhaled sharply and felt his stomach twist and knot in a way that made him feel nauseous as a familiar short, dark-haired girl walked into the coffee shop, her dance bag slung over one arm and wearing an outfit he would have shaken his head at and criticised had he not been so nervous. He forced a friendly, relaxed smile on his face as Rachel waved at him on her way up to the counter and struggled to hold it on his face as she got herself a coffee and wove her way through the tables to join him.

"Sorry, I'm late," she apologised when she reached the table. She set her bag down beside the chair and sat down. "I wasn't completely satisfied with how I did some moves today, so I stayed after class to practice a little longer until I was happy." She smiled at him. "You know how important it is to never end a practice session until you're happy, you'll never succeed in the competitive world of theatre if you don't."

"Sure," Kurt agreed absently, his mind flicking through all the possible ways to tell Rachel about Blaine, searching for the best one.

Rachel swallowed a mouthful of coffee. "So what have you been up to lately? This is the first time we've had coffee in _ages_."

"Rachel, if I tell you something do you promise not to breathe a word about it to anyone?" Kurt blurted out, deciding to just cut to the chase before he was sick with nerves.

Setting her coffee down, Rachel leaned towards him across the small table, her eyes wide and earnest. "Of course I do," she promised. "You can tell me _anything_, Kurt, no matter how big the secret is – you know that."

Kurt nodded slowly. "This isn't just my secret though, and it's huge, someone's life could be drastically altered forever if you tell anyone," he warned her.

"I won't tell anyone, I promise," Rachel swore.

"Ok," Kurt breathed, nodding again. "Ok," he repeated. He met Rachel's curious gaze. "There's this guy-"

"Oh my gosh, you have a secret boyfriend?" Rachel shrieked. At Kurt's glare, she clapped her hands over her mouth. "Sorry," she whispered through her fingers.

Ignoring the heat threatening to creep across his face at the conclusion Rachel had jumped to – it was _almost_ right – he took a deep breath and started again, this time taking a different approach.

"Remember how you told me that all stories are based on fact back when you still believed my house was haunted?"

Rachel frowned and Kurt could almost see her mind ticking away behind her eyes, wondering how this related to the boy he had started to talk about before her interruption. "Yeah…" she replied after a pause.

"Well, you were right; there was some truth behind those stories. The noises neighbours heard during the night, the shadows seen at windows, the feeling that something was off about the house: that was all true."

Rachel looked even more confused and a hint of worry was starting to creep into her expression. "What are you saying?" she asked tentatively.

"I started hearing noises during the night after we moved into the house and I noticed food was disappearing and some of my books were going missing then reappearing again – remember that essay writing book Mercedes want to borrow that I couldn't find?" At Rachel's nod, he continued, "One night when I was home alone I decided to find out what the cause of all it was and when I went up into the attic, I-" He breathed out shakily and gripped at his coffee cup for support – _this is it_. "I found a teenage boy living up there; he had been there for around six months."

Rachel gasped, her mouth falling open as she stared at Kurt in complete shock. Kurt took another shaky sip of coffee as he apprehensively awaited her response, letting her have some time to take in what was surely a bombshell.

She mouthed wordlessly at him for a few seconds, before she managed to stutter out a response. "And you- How- Has he-" She took another moment to try and form a coherent thought. "How long ago did you find him?"

"A few months ago," he replied, worrying on his bottom lip with his teeth as he carefully watched his friend's reaction.

Worry flickered across Rachel's face. "And he's still living in your attic?" she asked.

Kurt nodded cautiously. Rachel's expression shifted and he hastened to reassure her of Blaine's credibility before she started to lecture him on how unsafe it was to keep allowing a strange, homeless boy to live in his house. "He's nothing like what you're thinking, he isn't a criminal or a drug addict or- or anything like that, he's just a sweet, polite boy who was forced to leave his own home and has nowhere else to go." He bit down so hard on his lip he tasted blood as he fought back tears at the memory of finding Blaine and the thought of what would happen if Rachel went against his wishes and told someone about him. "And please don't ask me how I can be sure of that, I- I just know, ok?" He swallowed thickly and dropped his gaze down to his coffee cup, no longer wanting to see Rachel's expression. "He's my friend," he said in a small voice.

Silence followed his words and he continued to stare at his coffee, holding back his tears and silently pleading for Rachel to understand and keep her promise.

"What's his name?" Rachel asked eventually and Kurt almost started sobbing with relief.

He lifted his gaze from his coffee to see Rachel watching him, still looking concerned but not like she had been a moment ago. "Blaine," he told her quietly. "His name is Blaine." A memory flashed before him: _Blaine… My name is Blaine_.

"Blaine," she echoed quietly, nodding her head slightly as though she was still trying to piece everything together in her mind to decide how she felt about it all. "And how old is Blaine?"

"Seventeen." Kurt shifted in his chair as Rachel nodded yet again. "Look, Rachel, he's still living in my attic partly because he doesn't have anywhere else to go, but mostly because he's scared, scared of being picked up by the police, scared of being sent back to live with his parents, scared of being forced to live in some shelter, and scared of being around other people in case they contact the authorities, kick him out on the streets, or abuse him again – yes," he added, seeing Rachel's eyes widen with dawning realisation and the question forming on her lips, "his parents abused him, along with a number of students at his old school. That's why he ran away."

Rachel's shock had faded and was replaced by a mixture of concern, sympathy, and horror. "That's awful," she murmured, her eyebrows drawn together into a pained frown. She licked her lips, shifting uncertainly in her chair. "Why- Why was he abused? Do you know?"

Sighing, Kurt rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly feeling weary. "The same reason I get treated like shit at school: he's gay."

Rachel's mouth made a small 'oh' shape, though no sound came out. She fumbled for words for a moment. "And you're-"

"Helping him?" Kurt asked, taking a fortifying gulp of his cooling coffee. "Yes, I've been bringing him food and clothes, been spending time with him, and I became his friend." His expression and voice softened. "He's a nice guy, Rach. A nice guy who's had shit happen in his life and everyone he knew turned on him just because of who he is."

Rachel nodded. "I believe you," she said quietly.

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief and the sickening churning in his stomach began to fade away. "Will you come meet him tomorrow? He needs to start trusting people other than me before he is ready to meet my family and leave the attic for good."

He could see at least a dozen more questions in Rachel's eyes at his words, but she didn't ask them; instead she just nodded. "I'll meet him."

* * *

**A/N: **Klaine kiss! :)

Thanks for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex!

Next chapter: Rachel meets Blaine!


	13. Chapter 13

Blaine felt like he was going to be sick when he woke up on the morning of Rachel's visit. Rachel could easily tell someone about him or judge him for the way he was living and there was no way he would trust her if it wasn't for Kurt. However, all of Kurt's reassurances did nothing to ease the nauseating churning in his stomach.

It took him a lot longer than usual to get through his morning routine of washing his face and getting dressed, and as a result he was only just attempting to coax his hair into something other than a tangled mess of curls when Kurt arrived with breakfast for them both. He noticed how Blaine was feeling right away.

"It will be alright," Kurt said softly. "I promise. Rachel's really nice and she won't tell a soul – trust me." He held Blaine's gaze and gave him a reassuring smile.

"I trust you," Blaine whispered, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of Kurt's wide, earnest blue eyes, more grey today thanks to the grey sweater he was wearing.

Kurt's lips parted and something flared up in his eyes, but just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. "I made pancakes for breakfast since you like them so much." He turned to fetch the tray, leaving Blaine a little confused as to what had just happened.

"Great," Blaine responded distractedly, sitting down on the floor next to Kurt and accepting the plate that was passed to him. "What time is Rachel coming?" he asked. Not that he knew the time to be able to know how soon that was, but talking helped to control his nerves a little.

Kurt spooned some fruit onto his plate. "Ten," he replied. "I didn't want to make it too late in the day so we were sitting around worrying for hours, but it had to be late enough for everyone else to have left. It's just after nine now, so we have a bit of time before she gets here."

Nodding, Blaine chewed a mouthful of fruit even though the thought of eating made his stomach twist unpleasantly.

Kurt had managed to get his family out of the house so Rachel's visit could go smoothly and without any risk of being caught. Burt was at work and Kurt had slyly convinced Finn to go to the garage as well to earn some money, while Carole was out shopping with a friend for the day.

"Did you want to stay up here or go downstairs when she gets here?" Kurt asked.

Blaine looked around the attic at his few belongings balanced on top of boxes and wooden crates, at the bowl and water bottle he used as a sink, at the small stash of food Kurt had given him in case he was hungry when Kurt couldn't bring food up to him, at the blankets and pillows making-up his bed lying on the floor.

"Can we go down to your room?" He didn't want Rachel to see all of this, the evidence of his quality of life and his reliance on Kurt to survive. He didn't think he could take the strain of seeing that extra pity in her eyes and her reluctance to treat him as normal on top of his fear.

"Of course we can," Kurt said with a smile. "We can go wherever you're most comfortable."

Forcing another forkful of breakfast into his mouth, Blaine tried to calm down and return the smile. Sitting in Kurt's room surrounded by all of Kurt's familiar belongings and his comforting scent would be where he felt most comfortable.

They finished breakfast in silence. Kurt looked up several times looking like he wanted to say something, but always changed his mind and lowered his gaze to his plate again. Blaine robotically continued to eat but the food he usually loved was nothing but flavourless mush in his mouth and kept catching in his throat when he tried to swallow. Even though it was a great effort, he finished all of his breakfast; the habit of never wasting any food was deeply ingrained in him from months of having very little to eat, hardly enough to survive. Kurt ate everything as well, though Blaine could tell by his tight, pale face, worried glances, and the amount of time he spent picking at his pancakes with his fork that he didn't really want to, but Blaine knew he was uncomfortable leaving food on his plate ever since meeting him.

When Kurt glanced at his phone and turned to face Blaine with a look that clearly said 'it's time,' Blaine automatically stood up, his heart hammering and his hands shaking. He swallowed thickly as Kurt picked up the tray and headed for the stairs; he would have offered to carry the tray himself if he hadn't known he would have dropped it in his sweaty, trembling hands.

Once they were out in the hallway, Kurt balanced the tray in one hand and took Blaine's hand in the other, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Blaine returned the pressure, trying to gain some courage from the other boy. Kurt led the way into his bedroom, dumping the tray on his dresser and tugging Blaine towards the bed where they sat down. Blaine was glad to be off his feet before his knees buckled.

Now that they were in Kurt's room he could watch the time until Rachel's arrival draw closer and he found himself unable to look away from the clock on Kurt's nightstand, his eyes following the second hand ticking away the remaining time in which Kurt was the only person in his life.

"Blaine," Kurt said gently. Blaine turned away from the clock to look at him with frantic eyes. "It's going to be fine, you are the sweetest, kindest, most wonderful guy I've ever met; Rachel will like you and she won't make any assumptions or judge you in any way, I promise." He brushed back a few messy curls that were sticking up on the top of Blaine's head. He lightly caressed Blaine's jaw just as the doorbell rang, smoothing Blaine's cheek with his thumb when he jumped at the sound, his eyes widening. "No matter what happens I'll still be here with you," Kurt assured him softly, before giving Blaine's hand one last squeeze and getting to his feet. "I'll be right back," he added on his way to the door.

Lacing his quivering hands together, Blaine listened carefully to the sounds of Kurt's footsteps heading down the hall, followed by the fainter sound of him descending the stairs. A part of him wanted to go over to the doorway or out into the hall to try and listen to what Rachel and Kurt were saying, but he had never been one to eavesdrop and he didn't think he could have made his legs work even if he had wanted to. He strained his ears, but he couldn't hear anything now except for the clock – ticking away the time until Rachel came upstairs, until he learned to trust someone other than Kurt.

His pulse was pounding so loudly in his ears and his stomach was churning and twisting so much that he almost missed the sounds of approaching footsteps and the low murmur of voices accompanying them. Fighting the urge to run, Blaine took a deep breath and made an effort to sit up straighter and control the trembling in his hands. The voices out in the hall had stopped and the footsteps were louder. Blaine stared at the doorway, awaiting the appearance of Kurt and Rachel. The footsteps were just outside the door, sweat was gathering on the creases of his palms, air was caught in his lungs, and he was hyper aware of every little thing around him: the sound of two pairs of feet on the carpet, the erratic thumping of his heart, the faint sound of a neighbour's dog barking, the ticking of the clock…

Kurt stepped into the room, his eyes filled with apprehension and desperate hope. Trailing behind him was a short girl with long, dark hair held back from her face by a headband. She wore a skirt, knee socks, and a sweater with a kitten on it. When she first entered the room she looked both curious and concerned, but as soon as her gaze landed on Blaine her face brightened into a friendly smile, though her eyes still betrayed her true emotions.

"Hi," she greeted him, looking a little unsure what to say. "I'm Rachel Berry, and you must be Blaine." She shot a nervous look at Kurt, who had just sat down next to Blaine. "Kurt told me a bit about you yesterday."

Out the corner of his eye, Blaine saw Kurt frown and shake his head slightly at Rachel and she bit her lip, her eyes flicking between Kurt and Blaine as she hovered uncertainly a few feet away from the bed.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Hi," he replied in a voice that still wavered slightly despite his best efforts to sound more confident than he felt.

An awkward silence followed this and he caught a glimpse of Kurt mouthing something at Rachel before he spoke for the first time since entering the room. "Rachel is the one I've told you about before," he told Blaine in a voice that contained no hints of worry or showed any signs that this was anything other than a typical first meeting between two people he was friends with. "The one who is determined to be a star one day and tries to hog all of the solos in Glee club."

Rachel sniffed. "Mr. Schue gives solos to whoever is best and it's not my fault if that's me." She tugged the chair out from behind Kurt's desk and sat down. "Do you sing, Blaine?" she asked, the uncertainty starting to fade from her expression.

Though Blaine was feeling some of his nerves ebb away at the normalcy of the conversation – no mention of his past or his living situation yet – he still hesitated before answering. He had always loved singing, but his love for it had once caused trouble for him both at school and at home until it got to the stage where he kept his passion to himself and only ever sang when he knew the house was empty. Kurt's shoulder brushed his and his hesitation faded; nobody was going to torment him here and Rachel and Kurt both loved to sing as well; he wasn't alone.

"I- I love singing," he replied, forcing himself to look at Rachel as he spoke and not duck his head and mumble like he wanted to. "I have for as long as I can remember; music is my greatest passion." Kurt pressed his arm against his and he felt the knots in his stomach loosen further. "I've been playing piano and guitar since I was a kid as well."

He felt Kurt shift next to him and he looked over at his friend.

"I never knew that," Kurt said, smiling at Blaine. "If I'd known you played piano I would have shown you the old one we have downstairs."

Rachel leaned forward in her chair until her elbows were resting on her knees. "You should join Glee club with us!" she said enthusiastically, the knowledge of Blaine's situation apparently disappearing from her mind in her excitement. "Kurt mentioned you were doing home-schooling, so when you start school you can join; we're always looking for strong male leads."

Taken aback at what she was suggesting, Blaine turned to look at Kurt, appealing to him for help.

Kurt was staring at Rachel with his lips parted and his eyebrows drawn together slightly in disbelief. "Rachel," he reprimanded. "I think you're jumping ahead of things a bit."

Blinking, Rachel glanced over at Kurt and opened her mouth, clearly about to say something in defence of her words, but then she noticed the glare Kurt was sending her way and Blaine's wide eyes flicking between her and Kurt. "I- Sorry." She looked over at Blaine. "Sorry, I tend to get a bit carried away when it comes to things like that." She bit her lip, looking appropriately abashed.

Another awkward silence followed and Blaine shifted on the bed, lifting his chin so that he was looking directly at Rachel. If he wanted to do this, to get out of this untrusting, uncertain state of mind that he had been stuck in for over a year, he needed to make an effort as well, he needed to take a deep breath and make the leap because he _could _do it.

"I- I heard you were applying for NYADA," he said, even managing to smile at Rachel.

Rachel brightened again, a smile spreading across her face and her eyes lighting up. "I am! It's been my dream for as long as I can remember to become a Broadway actress and NYADA is the best pathway to getting there. Plus, I love New York, it's just my city, you know?"

Nodding, Blaine felt the smile on his face become less fixed and more natural as he talked to Rachel about New York, recalling how he had gone there as a child and had loved the constant thrum of life and excitement. As he and Rachel exchanged opinions and stories about New York, he felt Kurt's arm – which was still pressed against his own – relax and he glanced over at him to find Kurt watching him with a wide smile.

Rachel noticed the look they exchanged. "Kurt's coming to New York with me," she announced.

"He is?" Blaine shot Rachel a surprised look – Kurt had never told him that, but then again, they had never really discussed his future, just Blaine's. He turned back to face Kurt. "You are?"

It wasn't that he was hurt that Kurt had never told him – there was never really an opportunity for him to do so – or that he was going, he was just caught off guard. He had never really given any thought to Kurt's future after high school, but he knew he shouldn't be surprised that he wanted to leave Ohio or that New York was where he had his heart set on going. Kurt was bright, energetic, hard-working, compassionate, and talented; any college would love to have him, but Blaine knew Kurt had big dreams, ones far beyond the scope of a small town like Lima, and a city like New York was bound to be attractive to him. Plus it was somewhere that being different was celebrated, not here where it got you beaten up or tossed in a dumpster.

For some reason Kurt looked almost as shocked as Blaine had at the news, as if his post-high school plans had been forgotten in the wake of everything that had happened recently and the reminder from Rachel had shaken what had been set firm in his mind. "Yeah, I am," he replied, sounding a little dazed.

Firmly pushing away the knowledge that this meant Kurt would be leaving him, Blaine asked, "Are you applying for NYADA as well?"

Kurt shook his head. "I thought about it, but I decided fashion was more my calling and I'm applying to Parsons and the Fashion Institute of Technology." He was speaking hollowly and his eyes were still wide and a little distant, as if he was paying more attention to his own thoughts than to what he was actually saying.

Rachel appeared not to notice Kurt's strange reaction. "It's going to be great!" she enthused, bouncing on her chair slightly in her excitement. "We'll get an apartment somewhere, go see a musical at least once a month, flirt with cute guys in little coffee shops-" Kurt stiffened at this but she continued speaking, completely oblivious- "and go for walks around Central Park on the weekends." Her eyes – sparkling with her big dreams and visions of life in New York – landed on Blaine. "Where are you planning on going after graduation?" she asked him.

This was something else Blaine hadn't given much thought to, at least not recently. Despite once again having the ability to graduate and go to college, he still had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. He hadn't given it any serious thought since before he ran away from home and everything in his life had changed drastically since then, from his personality to his outlook on life, and his old wonderings of maybe studying music or acting seemed like something he had dreamed of in a past life, which, in a way, it was.

"I'm not sure," he admitted truthfully. "I haven't given much thought to that sort of thing since I left home. I didn't think it would ever be possible for me to go to college anymore."

The light in Rachel's eyes dimmed slightly, dampened by a reminder of the reality of Blaine's situation. Blaine didn't look at Kurt; he didn't want to see what his reaction to this was. Kurt had given him the potential to live his life again and follow his dreams, but his dreams had vanished long ago and he was so used to just living day by day, to not thinking about the next or any other time in the future, that he no longer knew what to do now that he didn't have to do that anymore.

"In the past I thought about maybe studying music or theatre or teaching, but now I have no idea." He paused and lifted his shoulders in a small, helpless shrug. "I just don't know."

Rachel smiled encouragingly at him. "Well, you still have plenty of time to decide and once you start getting back into the swing of school you'll probably realise where you want to go with your life. Lots of people don't know what they want to do at the beginning of senior year."

Nodding, Blaine managed a smile. Rachel was right; he had some time. He still wasn't completely convinced that he would be able to set out his future before college application deadlines came around, but he had time and that could change everything.

* * *

"I think that went well," Rachel said brightly as Kurt saw her out to her car. "It wasn't anywhere near as bad as you were making it out to be."

Kurt was too relieved at how quickly Blaine had relaxed and started to make conversation around Rachel to be irritated by her comment. "I didn't know how he would react, so I had to warn you," he informed her.

Rachel had stayed for over two hours in total, an hour longer than Kurt had told her to stay for, but she and Blaine had got along better than he had anticipated they would. After the initial awkwardness had dissipated the three of them had talked nonstop, steering clear of any topics that may potentially upset Blaine and sticking to safe subjects like music, Broadway, and fashion – an enjoyable conversation that consisted mostly of Blaine and Kurt strongly disagreeing with every defence Rachel made against articles of clothing she owned. As it turned out, though Blaine didn't have much to wear at the moment, he had an interest in fashion and read _Vogue_ at any opportunity he got.

About five minutes ago Rachel had announced that she was spending the afternoon with her dads and had to leave and Kurt had offered to see her out, leaving Blaine making lunch in the kitchen – something he had been wanting to do for a while now. The second he and Rachel had left Blaine pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards, Kurt had let out the last of the tension that had been slowly fading the longer Blaine spent in Rachel's presence. He was now almost giddy with relief and happiness at how well the morning had gone and though he knew Blaine wasn't quite ready to meet his family, it wouldn't be long before he would be.

Leaning against the side of Rachel's car, Kurt smiled at his friend as she opened the door. "Are you ok to come over again soon?" he asked her. "I think Blaine should spend a bit more time with you before he meets my family." He paused for a second. "Maybe he could meet Mercedes next time as well," he added contemplatively, more thinking aloud than asking for Rachel's opinion on the matter.

Rachel tossed her purse into the passenger seat before turning back to face Kurt. "Of course," she agreed. "But you really need to tell your family soon; you can't keep holding off something like this," she added, her tone and expression becoming serious.

"I'll tell them as soon as Blaine is ready; I promised him I wouldn't tell anyone until then," he replied.

Rachel frowned. "Don't you think telling your family something as big as this is more important than your promise to Blaine? Especially since he is improving." She folded her arms across her chest and held herself taller, obviously predicting Kurt to have an angry outburst and preparing herself for it. "They have another person living in their house that they don't have a clue about."

Kurt's earlier inability to get annoyed at Rachel started to ebb away. "I can't just break my promise to him!" he told her, scandalised. "You didn't see how terrified he was when I met him; you didn't hear how desperate he sounded when he asked me not to tell anyone! You've known him for_ two hours_, you can't tell me that waiting a little longer is wrong and not the best thing for Blaine."

"But that's the problem," Rachel insisted, looking imploringly at Kurt, "you're only thinking of what is best for _Blaine_, not for anyone else involved in this, which includes your family even though they don't know he exists. You've only been thinking about what's best for Blaine since you met him."

Kurt straightened up so he was no longer leaning against the car, anger and frustration starting to flare up inside him. "Because he's a homeless, emotionally scarred seventeen-year-old who had to run away from home to live in constant fear because he was being abused and effectively has no family or anyone who cares about him but me!" he reminded her, his voice rising as his anger mounted. "Of course I have to think about what's best for him when he's been through all of that shit! It took me _weeks_ to gain his trust, I'm not going to throw it all away and hurt him again! Do you know what effect that could have on him?" He shook his head at Rachel; he couldn't believe what she was suggesting.

"Kurt-" Rachel began, uncrossing her arms and reaching out a hand in placation.

Kurt stepped backwards out of her reach. "I'll tell my family as soon as Blaine is ready for me to do so; it won't affect them any if they don't know about him for a little while longer, but it will deeply affect Blaine if they find out too soon," he told her firmly. "Don't you _dare_ tell anyone about him, Rachel," he warned her in a hard voice.

"Of course I won't," she promised quickly. She moved away from her car and started towards Kurt. "But, Kurt-"

Kurt just shook his head at her and slowly began backing away towards the front door of his house. "Just drop it, ok?" he pleaded. He glanced over his shoulder at the house. "I'd better go back in before Blaine starts wondering where I've gone. You'd better go; your dads will be waiting for you."

For a few seconds Rachel didn't move, looking like she wanted to say something but was unable to find the right words. "Text me when you want me to come over again," she said instead, stepping back over to her car. "I'll see you later."

Kurt nodded and watched as she climbed into her car, reversed out the driveway, and left, giving him a quick wave before she drove off. He stood for a moment after she had disappeared from sight and stared out along the deserted road.

Another reason he wanted to put off telling his family about Blaine was his fear of what their reaction would be. What if they didn't see him the same way he did? What if, instead of the sweet, intelligent boy, they saw Blaine as some sort of criminal who should be thrown out on the streets or taken away to a reform school or something? What if they said he couldn't stay with them anymore or demanded he be taken away by the police or sent back to his parents? Kurt didn't think he could handle it if they reacted like that. He couldn't abandon Blaine now or stand by and watch him be thrown out of the house or sent back to his parents. And then there was the selfish reason behind him wanting Blaine to stay: if he was forced to leave, Kurt may never see him again and he didn't want Blaine to leave his life; he didn't think he ever would.

He pushed down those disturbing thoughts and stomach-churning worries as he went back inside and headed through to the kitchen, where he could hear Blaine humming softly under his breath. The last of his anxieties loosened their vice-grip on his stomach at the sight that greeted him when he reached the kitchen doorway. Leaning against the doorframe, he smiled softly as he paused to watch for a moment.

Blaine was moving around the kitchen with the comfortable ease of someone in their own home, switching between adding some ingredients to a large bowl and washing up a few dishes in the sink. He had a relaxed smile on his face and was happily humming a tune that Kurt didn't recognise as he worked. He looked so peaceful and happy and _right_ here in the kitchen that it made Kurt's heart swell. He would fight to keep this boy living here; he would fight to keep him in his life.

He must have made some noise, or Blaine sensed his presence somehow, because the shorter boy suddenly looked up from the bowl that was sitting on the counter next to two plates. "I made a chicken salad," he announced. "I hope that's ok."

Unhitching himself from the doorframe, Kurt crossed the room to join him. "It's perfect," he assured him, peering curiously into the bowl of salad when he reached Blaine's side. "And if it tastes as good as it looks I'll let you do some more of the cooking in the future."

Blaine bumped him with his hip before serving up portions of the salad onto both of their plates.

"I'll get the drinks," Kurt said, heading to the cupboard to pull out a couple of glasses before going to fetch some iced tea from the fridge.

Over lunch Blaine shared his opinion on Rachel – "She's sweet, but I can see why you rarely win fights over solos; I've never met someone _that_ competitive and confident in their own ability" – and they chatted and laughed about things they had talked about with Rachel and Kurt forgot about Blaine's past and that he lived in secret up in the attic; it felt like Blaine was just another one of his close friends he went to school with.

_Friends._

Kurt felt his joy and happiness slip and he had to drop his gaze down to his plate so Blaine wouldn't see the emotions probably displayed clearly in his eyes, and he concentrated on keeping his features schooled in the same easy, relaxed expression.

He had been trying to just let Blaine have some time and space while he went through the emotional and difficult process of leaving the attic for good, but when moments like these happened, moments where Blaine was so painfully just his friend, he could do nothing to stop all the worries and insecurities from rushing to the forefront of his mind.

He had never considered himself to be particularly desirable, nor could he imagine anyone wistfully wishing that they could date him and he couldn't stop the heart-sinking feeling that Blaine had only kissed him because he was the first person who had cared about him and been his friend in years. He couldn't take it much longer; it was torture being around Blaine and behaving as if nothing had happened between them when he could still vividly remember the feel of Blaine's lips moving against his and the taste of him on his tongue.

He glanced up at Blaine and the other boy smiled at him as he lifted his glass of iced tea, his warm, almost golden hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. Kurt couldn't stand this any longer; they needed to talk about it.

"Blaine," he began nervously, dropping his gaze back to the table when Blaine looked at him curiously. "I- Can we-" He huffed out a sigh of frustration at his own incapability to just get the question out that had been eating away at him for days now.

Blaine had set his glass back down on the table and was watching Kurt with hints of concern and worry flickering in his eyes.

"Can we talk about the other night?" Kurt asked, twisting his hands in his lap.

When a few seconds passed with no response, Kurt chanced a peek at Blaine, scared at what he might find.

Blaine was staring at him with his lips parted as if he was about to say something and his expression was difficult to read. When he caught sight of Kurt's fleeting glance, he stuttered, "I-"

"Why did you kiss me?" Kurt blurted out, no longer able to tiptoe around the issue. "Was it just because I'm your first friend since Eric? Because of everything I've done for you since we met? You'd feel guilty turning me down?" He was looking at Blaine now, watching the colour drain from his face and his eyes tighten as multiple emotions showed in them. "I know I'm not exactly desirable or anything, so I'll understand if you only think of me as a friend and nothing has to change between us, but I just need to know." He fought down the emotions threatening to spill out in tears and inhaled as deeply as he could.

"It's none of that," Blaine told him quietly, looking pained. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have let you go days thinking like that, but I can assure you that you are _not _undesirable at all, so please don't ever think that way about yourself." Blaine slumped in his chair, passing a hand over his eyes and running it through his hair. "I shouldn't have kissed you that night," he said after a moment, sounding as if the words were being wrenched from him.

Kurt felt like every organ in his body had suddenly dropped out of him, leaving him echoingly empty. Blaine's words kept repeating over and over inside his head, each individual word stabbing sharply at his heart until his pulse sounded weirdly distorted to his ears. He couldn't move or speak, could do nothing but stare across the table at Blaine as short breaths continued to drag in and out of his lungs with deep, heavy pains in his chest.

Blaine looked to be in as much distress as Kurt was, though Kurt couldn't imagine why; it wasn't _his_ heart that was being shattered or _his_ hopes that were being crushed.

"I don't deserve you, Kurt," Blaine continued and Kurt snapped his gaze up to look at him, the air freezing in his lungs. "You're an extraordinary person with such a big heart and an amazing, bright future ahead of you that some people could only dream of having; you deserve someone better, you shouldn't be weighed down with all of my baggage." Blaine swallowed and closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling raggedly through his mouth. When he opened his eyes again they were reddening and filling with tears. "You're so beautiful, Kurt," he whispered, his words catching a little in his choked throat, "both inside and out and you could do _so_ much better than me."

Kurt's heart was no longer being pierced by Blaine's words and instead was aching at what Blaine had just confessed, at the fact that he thought he was so damaged by his past that he wasn't worthy of Kurt. He wanted to say something to let Blaine know just how wonderful he was and how he was not in the slightest bit undeserving of Kurt's affection, but he couldn't find the words. In the end it all boiled down to one simple thing.

"I don't want anyone else but you," he said numbly. "I want you and everything that comes with you, no matter if it's good or bad. I lo-" He changed his words mid-sentence. "I only want you, Blaine," he repeated instead, his voice thick with emotion as he desperately hoped Blaine understood what he meant to him, every fibre of his being waiting on tenterhooks for Blaine's response and willing for this to go right.

Blaine was biting down on his bottom lip as he gazed at Kurt, a spark of something that Kurt had seen a few times before flaring up in his eyes, the something that made his heart take off in a whole new rhythm and his veins thrum with tingling electricity. Blaine wet his lips. "Kurt," he began softly, "I-"

Kurt could see in his eyes what he wanted as clearly as if it was written out in words, and he could feel it in the air between them – a kind of tension that he didn't think he could ever describe. "You can kiss me," he breathed.

Blaine's eyes darkened further and he moved from his chair into the one next to Kurt, his eyes never leaving Kurt's. He swallowed audibly as he raised an ever so slightly trembling hand to softly cup Kurt's face. His eyes held a hint of wonder as he stroked his thumb along Kurt's cheekbone and Kurt allowed his eyes to flutter shut as Blaine leant in closer. There was a brief moment where their breaths intermingled between them, brushing over the other's lips in gentle, warm caresses, and then Blaine's lips were on his in a soft kiss that started hesitant, before becoming more forceful as Blaine gained confidence and parted Kurt's lips with his own.

Inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of Blaine through his nose, Kurt tentatively ran his tongue along Blaine's bottom lip before dipping it inside Blaine's mouth, his uncertainty over if he was doing it right – he had never kissed anyone like this before – disappearing as Blaine made a soft noise and kissed him harder, his hand slipping back so he could trail his fingers through the hair at the back of Kurt's neck, making his skin tingle.

Like the last time they'd kissed, they lingered only inches away from each other after they broke apart, though this time Blaine moved back enough to meet Kurt's gaze.

"I don't want anyone else but you either," he whispered, looking at him in a way that Kurt had never experienced before; it felt like Blaine was staring straight into his soul. "I never thought I'd ever feel this way, I thought I'd only ever experience this through books and my imagination, but you make me feel all of that and so much more. You make me feel happy and brave and strong – things I hadn't felt in years before I met you."

He was no longer whispering, but speaking strongly and clearly, his gaze still holding Kurt's and his hand still resting on Kurt's shoulder, his thumb making repetitive sweeping arcs over the skin where Kurt's collarbone met his neck. "You're in my heart, Kurt and that wouldn't be any different if we had met under more normal circumstances."

Kurt didn't say anything to this and he didn't need to because when he leaned forward to capture Blaine's lips again in a passionate kiss, he knew Blaine understood everything he felt.

* * *

Tugging his blankets up until they were under his nose and wrapping them tighter around him in a valiant effort to block any of the cold air from reaching him, Blaine curled up into a smaller ball in his bed. He hated nights like this where the temperature suddenly plummeted to below freezing and he would put on almost every article of clothing he owned before climbing into his chilly bed, yet he was still shivering. He knew his bed would warm up eventually, but that knowledge did little to lift his mood. His only source of warmth was the memories of that day. Kurt's earlier admission and the kisses they shared afterward kept replaying in his head and were what was keeping a smile on his face even as shivers continued to shake his body.

Burying his head deeper into his pillow and pulling the blankets up even higher until they covered his ears, he allowed himself to sink into another fantasy of Kurt as he waited for his bed to warm up and his shivers to ease so he could fall asleep.

A flashlight was suddenly clicked on and shone in his face. "Blaine," Kurt's voice said. "Oh, sorry," he added, directing his flashlight at the floor when he spotted Blaine shutting his eyes, screwing up his face and turning away from the bright light.

"What are you doing up here?" Blaine asked, still seeing the bright starbursts of light behind his closed eyelids.

"Coming to bring you downstairs," Kurt replied. "It's _freezing_; there's no way I'm letting you sleep up here."

The bright spots of light having finally disappeared, Blaine opened his eyes and struggled with the tangle of blankets wrapped around him to sit up. "But where-" he began, but was cut off by Kurt.

"You can share my bed, we've slept together before." Kurt froze in the midst of tugging Blaine's blankets off him, his cheeks turning pink as he realised what he'd just said. "Not like _that_, but we shared a bed and-"

Pushing the blankets the rest of the way off him, Blaine laid a hand on Kurt's arm, though he couldn't help grinning at the other boy getting flustered. "Kurt, it's fine, I know what you meant." He shivered as the cold air cut through his layers of clothing.

Kurt still looked a little flushed. "Right," he muttered distractedly. He folded his arms across his chest and shivered a little in his thin pyjama shirt. "Hurry up," he moaned as Blaine pushed his blankets neatly back into place. He grabbed Blaine's hand and tugged him across the attic and down the stairs, opening the door out into the hall quietly.

The hall was gloriously warm compared to the attic and Blaine sighed contently as his shivers eased up. He followed Kurt through to his bedroom, fumbling with the hem of his outermost sweater and pulling it over his head before setting it down on top of Kurt's dresser – he wouldn't need as many layers here.

Kurt was already crawling into his bed by the time Blaine reached it and he stood awkwardly at the side, watching as Kurt laid down. They may have shared a bed once before, but that was before they had kissed and he felt a bit shy and uncertain about being in bed beside Kurt.

Kurt, now settled under the covers and lying on his side, smiled encouragingly at him and flipped the covers back beside him on Blaine's side of the bed. "Come here," he murmured, holding out a hand.

Swallowing, Blaine stepped closer to the bed and clambered inelegantly onto it, taking the hand Kurt offered him. Kurt kept hold of his hand as he laid down facing Kurt and tugged the thick, comforting blanket over him. They gazed at each other silently for a moment and Blaine could see the rapid beat of Kurt's pulse at his neck and the slight tremble of his lips as he licked them, which showed that Kurt was just as nervous about this as he was.

The knowledge of that was calming somehow and it gave Blaine the courage to slide closer to Kurt and gently brush back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. "Is this ok?" he asked in a low murmur as he lowered his hand from Kurt's hair to rest on his ribs.

Kurt nodded, his eyes still focused on Blaine's as the combined heat from their bodies quickly warmed the bed. Blaine's eyes slipped closed of their own will when Kurt tenderly smoothed the length of his cheekbone with his thumb.

"Goodnight, Blaine," he murmured.

Sliding his hand a little further round Kurt's ribs until his arm was curled partway around his back, Blaine said drowsily, "Night, Kurt."

There was the soft press of lips to his cheek just by his eye and then he was asleep.

* * *

**A/N: **To anyone who wanted more of an explanation about their kiss last chapter: there you go :) And I made them share a bed again because it's adorable.

Huge thank you to all of you reading this story and an extra thank you to those of you leaving reviews - I appreciate every read, review, favourite, and follow so much.

And thank you to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex!

Now that Blaine has met Rachel, I think it's about time he met some other important people in Kurt's life; in the next chapter, maybe? ;)


	14. Chapter 14

"Did I ever tell you about my brother Cooper?"

Kurt's thumb stilled in the middle of stroking an absent pattern on Blaine's forearm as he tilted his head up to look at him. The dark-haired boy wasn't looking at him, but staring at the ceiling. His expression was neutral and his voice was calm, but Kurt could sense that the subject was a delicate one. He wished he could see Blaine's eyes to tell how he was _really_ feeling – Blaine had extremely expressive eyes that generally never failed to mask his true feelings – and he wondered if Blaine was purposefully facing the ceiling so that Kurt couldn't do exactly that.

"You didn't," Kurt replied softly, watching Blaine anxiously as he continued to stare upwards.

Blaine licked his lips. "Cooper is five years older than me, so he'd gone off to college by the time I came out to my parents. I don't know if he knew I was gay or not, but if he did he never mentioned it." He gave a small shrug before continuing. "Cooper was pushed hard all through high school, just like I was: he had to get top grades, be a star player in several sports teams, that sort of thing. He had to be the model student, and son.

"Even before I came out Cooper was the favoured child; he always did that little bit better than me at everything, especially sports. Even so, when Cooper left for college he chose one in California so he could avoid having to see them too often." Blaine chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, keeping his gaze fixed on the ceiling even as Kurt ran his hand along his bicep soothingly. "I don't know all the details of what happened next, but I guess our parents must have said something to him over the phone because the next thing I knew Cooper was telling me that he wouldn't ever be coming home again and that he'd had it with our parents. When I tried to ask him why he just said that he couldn't live that way anymore." Kurt saw the movement of Blaine's throat as he swallowed thickly and felt the slight tremble of muscles against his own body and knew Blaine was trying his hardest not to cry.

"That was the last I heard from him," Blaine whispered thickly. "He changed his number and moved permanently to California almost immediately after that phone call. My parents haven't heard from him since, though they still pretend that everything is perfect with their relationship around their friends."

Kurt was silent as he continued to watch Blaine fight for control over his emotions; he was rendered speechless by this latest insight into Blaine's horrific past. Abused by his parents, abandoned by his brother – had anything gone right for him? Had any of his life been easy or enjoyable?

He fumbled for words for a moment. "So, he- So, your brother just hasn't bothered to come and find you when you've essentially been homeless for almost a year?" he demanded, aghast. "You could be dead for all he knows!"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Blaine ran a hand through his messy hair. "He doesn't know, he hasn't had any contact with any of my family in over three years," he said wearily.

Kurt fell onto his back next to Blaine. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around all of this. Maybe it was because he had grown up with a loving, caring family that he found it difficult to imagine much else, especially parents who just stood by and watched as their youngest son ran away and never returned. And then there was Cooper, who didn't even really know Blaine anymore. The one person who could have supported Blaine through his difficult teenage years hadn't even bothered to give him the occasional phone call to see how he was doing; he'd just abandoned him with parents he knew were controlling and narrow-minded. He could have given Blaine a home when he was forced to leave their parents' house, but instead he chose to be selfishly and blissfully ignorant of anything his younger brother may be subjected to.

Breathing around the tightness in his chest, Kurt said somewhat bitterly, "He still abandoned you; he knew what type of people your parents were. He didn't bother to check on how you were doing or even take you with him."

Silence met his words and just as Kurt turned his head to look at Blaine he heard a hitching, shaky breath choke out of the other boy's throat, followed almost immediately by a small sob as Blaine dissolved into tears.

The hard shell of anger around Kurt broke and his features softened as he watched Blaine bite down hard on his bottom lip in a vain effort to hold in his harsh sobs. Tears glistened in the other boy's eyes and shone on his face in the early morning light filtering through the curtains. Kurt hated that Blaine was still deeply hurt despite the increasing amount of time he spent smiling and laughing these days. Knowing that Blaine had these large wounds buried deep inside him broke Kurt's heart and made him feel so useless; he could tell Blaine how wonderful and cared for he was every day for the rest of his life and hold him for hours, but it would never be enough to heal him; he could only numb the pain. He no longer had any idea of what to say to Blaine in situations like this – all expressions of comfort seemed inadequate. He had never felt so utterly hopeless in all of his life.

"Blaine," Kurt murmured softly, lifting himself up enough to reach for the shorter boy and pull him against his chest. Blaine collapsed against him, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and burying his face in Kurt's neck. Holding back his own tears, Kurt held Blaine against him, gently stroking the curls on the back of his head. "I shouldn't have said that," he told him, feeling frustrated at his own carelessness. "I don't know your brother or the situation he was in; I had no right to speak that harshly about him."

Blaine's grip on him tightened as he lifted his head enough to speak. "It's true, though," he said thickly. He gulped in a lungful of air. "H-He obviously never c-cared about me either."

A fresh wave of tears hit him after that and he hid his face against Kurt's neck again, every heave of his chest and shudder of his small frame passing from his own body to Kurt's. Kurt rubbed his back soothingly as dampness spread across the skin of his neck and the neckline of his pyjama shirt.

"I don't know what to do," he whispered helplessly, only vaguely aware that he was speaking out loud. "I don't know how to help."

"Just hold me," Blaine murmured against his neck. "Don't leave me like everyone else."

Squeezing his eyes shut as tears blurred his vision at the pain and despair in Blaine's voice, Kurt ducked his head and pressed a kiss to Blaine's hair. "I won't, I promise I won't." But as he spoke he couldn't help but think of his dad and the rest of his family, who had yet to learn about Blaine and who could react in any number of ways that could result in him being forced to break his promise. The thought made him bury his nose in Blaine's hair, inhaling the scent of the boy he loved – because that's what it was, love, there was no point in tiptoeing around the fact anymore – and he vowed to never break his promise, no matter what happened with his family.

"I won't," he whispered into Blaine's hair.

His promise did nothing to stem the tears falling onto his neck and shoulder, or ease the sobs wracking Blaine's body – not that he expected them to. Blaine's pain was far beyond anything words could heal and all Kurt could do was hold him until he stopped crying and the pain dulled for the time being. It was horrible.

Pressing another kiss to the top of Blaine's head, he murmured, "I don't think I could ever leave you." He doubted Blaine heard him, but it didn't matter. Though a part of him thought it would be a good idea to confess his love for Blaine now, the rest of him disagreed. He didn't want the first time he told Blaine he loved him to be like this, to appear like it was only said because Blaine was so distraught; he wanted the moment to be special and just between them, not with Blaine's past haunting him and his wounds bleeding. Blaine was special and he deserved to have memories that were purely happy and not at all tainted and Kurt wanted to give those to him.

It took a while for Blaine's tears to dry up and his breathing to settle into a weary but steady rhythm. When Blaine's body stopped shuddering against his and the shorter boy's hold on him loosened slightly, Blaine lifted his head up to face Kurt.

"Sorry," he croaked, his voice roughened. He lifted a hand and quickly wiped at the tears still clinging to his cheeks and red, slightly puffy eyes. "I didn't mean to cry all over you." He sniffed and replaced his hand on Kurt's waist.

Kurt affectionately caressed Blaine's cheek and jawline. "Don't be sorry," he told him softly. "You don't ever have to apologise for things like that, ok? That's part of my job description as your boyfriend: be a shoulder to cry on." He smiled at Blaine and received a small one in return.

"So, you're- we're boyfriends now?" Blaine asked quietly and somewhat tentatively, his expression hopeful.

Kurt had forgotten that they hadn't actually officially labelled themselves as boyfriends yet. "Yes," he said firmly, pushing aside his natural instinct to be tentative about the confirmation, knowing that Blaine needed him to be sure right now.

Blaine smiled again and this time it reached his eyes, brightening his hazel irises. "Does that mean I can ask you to kiss me?"

Bending down, Kurt kissed Blaine softly, his hand still cupping the other boy's face. "Yes," he breathed against Blaine's lips.

Blaine tightened his hold on Kurt's waist. "Then kiss me," he murmured, his lips brushing Kurt's as he spoke.

Kurt didn't need telling twice. He reconnected their mouths, kissing Blaine slowly and sweetly, gasping as his boyfriend pressed his mouth harder against his. He could feel Blaine's need to feel wanted as hands were fisted in his shirt and lips were parted beneath his own. He held Blaine tighter against him and kissed him fiercely, sucking on his bottom lip before smoothing over it with his tongue, feeling Blaine's hands slide further up his side until they were rubbing over his ribs as he slid his tongue against Blaine's. With every touch, he tried to let Blaine know how much he was wanted, because Kurt had never wanted anyone more than he wanted Blaine, all of Blaine, including his painful past and uncertain future.

After a few minutes he could feel his body responding to that want and he reluctantly pulled back. "We should get up before anyone else does," he said.

Blaine sat up, his eyes flicking over to the clock on the nightstand and Kurt knew he had momentarily forgotten that there were other people in the house. "I'd better go back upstairs," he sighed, already pushing back the covers in preparation for getting up.

Sitting up, Kurt placed a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Wait a second." He slid closer and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He smiled as he heard Blaine exhale softly and felt him nuzzle his face against his neck. He knew how much Blaine loved being hugged, after years of being starved of physical affection.

"I'll bring up some breakfast as soon as I can," he murmured into Blaine's ear.

Blaine pulled back a little. "Ok," he replied. He pressed a quick kiss to Kurt's cheek before climbing off the bed.

Kurt saw him out of the room, checking that the coast was clear before letting Blaine step out into the hallway and head back up to the attic. He sighed as the attic door closed softly behind Blaine; he had thought life was unfair a few times in the past when he'd been tossed into a dumpster by a group of laughing jocks and when fellow students at his school hadn't batted an eye as Karofsky shoved him into the lockers time and time again, but he had gotten off pretty lightly compared to Blaine. Absolutely nothing in Blaine's life was fair. If he believed in God he would certainly be questioning that belief now, because Blaine did not deserve to be on any of the paths his life had been on so far.

* * *

As soon as Blaine was back up in the attic he walked over to his bed and sat down on it, staring at the morning light striping the floor beneath the windows and thinking.

He was sick of this, sick of sneaking around and being the one that Kurt was lying and keeping secrets from his family for. He was tired of living in this attic and of having to rely on Kurt for so much. It was time, past time, that he met the people whose house he had been living in for months without their knowledge. He was still scared and insecure, but that would still be true in five months from now; it was time to do it now. It was time to take that leap.

Drumming his fingers against the pile of blankets he was sitting on, he jiggled his right leg and threw impatient glances at the stairs leading down to the attic door. He wanted to do this now before he lost his nerve, but he had to wait until Kurt came and told him the best time, which may not even be today. There was a good chance Kurt would suggest waiting a few days before doing it, maybe even spending some more time with Rachel or another one of his friends first, but now that he had decided to do it Blaine knew that the longer he put it off the more difficult it would be for him to actually do it.

Feeling his heart race, his hands shake, and his stomach clench and twist with nerves, Blaine grabbed a book from the top of the nearest stack and tried to distract himself with it. He gave up after a few minutes when he found himself reading the same two sentences over and over again while straining his ears for the sounds of Kurt approaching and trying to imagine what the rest of Kurt's family was like and what he would say to them. Tossing the book back onto the pile, he got to his feet and began pacing the length of the attic, walking backwards and forwards in front of the windows like a bored zoo animal wearing a trail at the fence line of its enclosure.

Some time later he froze in the middle of his pacing when he heard a soft knock at the attic door, followed by the sound of the door opening and then being closed again.

"Sorry it took so long," Kurt apologised, slowly coming into view as he climbed the short flight of stairs, "but this was the first opportunity I-" He broke off suddenly when his gaze landed on Blaine standing halfway between the two windows. "What's wrong?"

Blaine should have expected Kurt to immediately pick up on his change in mood; he had never been that good at hiding what he was feeling and Kurt was especially good at reading him. He inhaled deeply. "I want to meet your family," he said in a relatively calm voice considering his twisting, churning insides.

Kurt stared at him for a moment, his lips parting slightly in surprise, before he set the tray containing Blaine's breakfast down on a nearby box. "Ok," he said slowly. "We'll figure something out after you've spent a bit more time with-" He paused, seeming to notice Blaine's clenched jaw, the paleness of his skin, the flicker of fear in his eyes. "Oh, you mean today?"

Blaine nodded, trying to remain as collected as possible so as to not fall into the whirlpool of his fear, thereby making him incapable of going through with this. "I don't want to put it off any longer, I'm sick of hiding up here and of making you lie to your family," he explained.

Kurt walked across the attic until he was standing in front of him. "You're not making me do anything," he protested. "And I'd rather keep you a secret for a little longer until you're completely ready to do this than have you do it too early and risk making things worse for you."

"But I don't think I'll ever be completely ready," Blaine admitted, watching as Kurt bit his lip apprehensively. "I could stay up here for another couple of months and meet all of your friends, but I would still be terrified of meeting your family."

"Because they can change your life again, for better or for worse," Kurt whispered, his voice sounding distant and tinged with some of the fear Blaine was currently experiencing. His eyes were unfocused and he appeared to be speaking more to himself than to Blaine.

Swallowing, Blaine said nothing to this and watched as Kurt's brow furrowed in thought.

"Are you really sure you want to do this today?" Kurt asked, coming out of his own thoughts and focusing his gaze upon Blaine again.

Blaine nodded. "Positive," he replied, trying to ignore the uncomfortable churning sensation in his stomach.

Kurt nibbled apprehensively on his bottom lip for another moment, his eyes darting from side-to-side slightly as he thought it all through in his head. "Carole is out grocery shopping and dad and Finn have gone to pick up something they need for the garage, so they won't be back home for another couple of hours." He absently scratched the side of his face. "We can wait downstairs in the living room for them to come home and you can meet them then." He paused, his hand now picking unconsciously at the sleeve of his sweater – he looked a little strained. "We can introduce you as my friend to start with and then go from there." Apparently sensing what Blaine was thinking, he added, "If I say you're my boyfriend that will just bring up a whole load of questions that are probably not best to deal with right away and it might influence their opinion of you and their decision about whether…" He trailed off, looking pained.

Another wave of fear rolled through Blaine at Kurt's unfinished sentence. The outcome of meeting Kurt's family would make a huge impact on his future; if he was able to stay here then his life would become substantially easier and more enjoyable – he would have a room to stay in, he would be able to start attending McKinley, and he would still be with Kurt, but if he had to leave then he honestly wasn't completely sure what he would do or where he would go, but he was determined to attend McKinley and to keep Kurt in his life.

Blaine reached for Kurt's hand and laced their fingers together. "It will be ok," he said, sounding more calm and confident than he felt.

Nodding, Kurt managed a tight smile. "I'm winding myself up for no reason, really. My dad looks and often acts gruff, but he is really understanding and has a good heart, and Carole is one of the most compassionate people I know; she gave Finn's now ex-girlfriend a place to stay when her parents kicked her out for being pregnant." At Blaine's stare, he added, "It's a long story."

Looking a little calmer, Kurt glanced over his shoulder at where he had left Blaine's breakfast tray. "Do you want to eat breakfast up here or take it downstairs?"

Blaine deliberated for a moment before deciding it was probably best if he went downstairs now to decrease the temptation of backing out of the meeting.

"Downstairs," he replied. Just as he went to cross the attic to fetch the tray he realised he was still wearing the outfit he had slept in last night. He shuffled his feet, suddenly feeling bashful. "I, um- I need to change first," he stammered, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Oh." A light blush was beginning to spread across Kurt's cheeks. "Right, of course." He looked wildly around the attic for a second. "I'll, um- I'll just wait- I'll be down in the kitchen." Looking flustered, he nodded and left the attic, the door thudding shut softly behind him.

With his face still hot, Blaine quickly washed, brushed his teeth, and pulled on one of his clean outfits that Kurt had washed for him. Running a comb self-consciously through his hair, he wished his hair wasn't so curly so he didn't look quite so much like a scruffy homeless person. He sighed as he set the comb back down, remembering the gel he used to slick his hair down with and wishing he had some just now.

Scooping up the breakfast tray on the way, he headed downstairs to the kitchen where he found Kurt making coffee.

"Do I look ok?" Blaine asked him, setting the tray down on the table and nervously tugging at the hem of his sweater. "I don't want your family to get a bad first impression."

Abandoning the coffee, Kurt came over to join him by the kitchen table. "Stop worrying; you look gorgeous." He raised a hand and affectionately brushed Blaine's hair back from his forehead.

"My hair _is_ a mess," Blaine agreed, wrinkling his nose and lifting a hand to try and pat down the curls he knew were sticking up in all directions on top of his head.

Kurt swatted his hand away. "You look fine – trust me." He grinned at his boyfriend. "You know me; I would never say someone looked good if they didn't."

Blaine managed to return his smile and Kurt squeezed his shoulder before returning to the coffee he was making.

Blaine picked at his breakfast for the best part of half an hour and spent so long over his coffee that it turned stone-cold before he was close to finishing it. Kurt sat with him at the table, chatting lightly about his Glee club's recent win at Sectionals and Rachel and Mr. Schue's manic determination to get to Nationals, which resulted in them beginning preparations for Regionals before they had even put their Sectionals trophy out on display in the trophy cabinet. It was a topic they had already discussed, but since neither of them had their complete concentration on the conversation, it didn't matter that Kurt was telling the same stories or that Blaine was repeating the same comments; it was just a way to fill the tense, apprehensive silence and give them something to occupy their minds.

When Blaine finally gave up on his breakfast, he helped Kurt clear up, and then they moved through to the living room where they switched on the TV, watching the reality show that came on automatically, neither of them caring enough to bother changing the channel.

They sat watching the TV in silence for one hour and three minutes – Blaine knew the exact time because he kept glancing at the clock every few minutes, trying to predict when Kurt's family would be home. It was almost midday now and judging by Kurt's fidgeting, Blaine guessed that he was expecting his family home soon.

Kurt glanced out the window at the deserted street outside and then shot another brief look at the clock on the mantelpiece, before turning to look at Blaine.

"Come here," he said softly, holding out an arm.

Blaine slid across the couch and leaned heavily against Kurt's side, sighing contently when Kurt wrapped his arm around his back to hold him there and closing his eyes as he rested his head against Kurt's chest. As he breathed in Kurt's scent and heard the familiar beating of his heart he tried not to think about how this may be their last moment like this together; before the day ended he could be out on the streets somewhere or in a police station.

These thoughts made him open his eyes and tilt his head up until he could see Kurt's face, hungrily drinking in every minute detail of him and willing it to be imprinted into his brain: the light freckles dusting his nose and cheeks, the curve of his jaw, the fragile sweep of his eyelashes, the slope of his nose, the fine map of veins beneath the pale skin of his neck. He traced his finger lightly along one of those veins, following its branching path down towards the neckline of Kurt's shirt until it disappeared from view. At Kurt's little shiver he lifted his gaze from his boyfriend's neck to his face again to find him looking down at him with the eyes that Blaine knew he'd never forget; no amount of distance or time could make that beautiful, mesmerising swirl of shifting shades of blue, green, and grey fade from his memory. He could never forget the way Kurt's eyes had been an almost silvery blue-grey in the moonlight, or how green they'd been that day he'd been wearing an olive green cardigan, or how they darkened to a deep blue whenever they kissed. Kurt swept his thumb over Blaine's cheek and Blaine knew with heart-wrenching certainty that he could never forget the way those eyes looked at him – the way _Kurt _looked at him. He'd be forced to see the image in his mind's eye every day, to re-live the memories while his heart ached for Kurt and his arms reached for the boy that wasn't there.

When Kurt bent down to kiss him, half of him wanted to surge upwards and kiss him fiercely, to desperately make the most of what could be their last moments together, but the rest of him wanted to turn his head away so that another painful memory wasn't added to the collection he already had. He couldn't reject Kurt, though. He was drawn irrepressibly to him and he met Kurt's kiss with one of his own. If the worst did happen he would rather have these memories than nothing at all.

With that thought in mind, he slid his hand up to tangle his fingers in the soft hair at the back of Kurt's head and hold him close. When Kurt's lips parted against his own, he pushed his tongue inside, memorising the taste and lines of his mouth with sweeps of his tongue. He ran his toes partway up Kurt's lower leg, feeling the swell of muscles beneath the stiff fabric of his jeans, familiar to him from the nights they'd shared a bed together and tangled their legs in sleep.

The sound of a car engine outside had them both freezing before pulling away from each other. In unison they looked out the window to see a car sweeping into the driveway, the outlines of three people vaguely visible through the windows. Blaine's heart was suddenly pounding far too fast as his brain filled with the instinctual voice shouting at him to run.

Kurt's hand cupped his face and, breathing raggedly, he turned his frantic eyes to him. "I'm not leaving you," he said in a low but firm voice. "I promise." Car doors slammed outside just as he brushed his lips over Blaine's again, sucking gently on his bottom lip for a moment, before letting it go. "I promise," he echoed in a voice barely above a whisper.

He dropped his hands from Blaine's face and Blaine went to move back to the other end of the couch, his hands lingering on Kurt's before he slowly moved away and turned to face the TV screen again, breathing as deeply and slowly as he could to try and settle his body's frantic, ragged rhythms.

They waited in silence, each second stretching on for too long as the urge to flee built up inside Blaine, the adrenaline collecting in his veins and flooding his muscles. He stared fixedly at the TV screen, knowing that if he let his gaze wander it would drift automatically towards the door and then he would be on his feet and sprinting up to his hideaway to remain a secret for another day.

A low murmur of unfamiliar voices, the erratic pounding of his own pulse, shuffling footsteps, the rustle of plastic bags, his breath whistling harshly out of his lungs, a key in the lock…

"-can't keep eating that much sugar for breakfast, sweetie, it isn't healthy and I thought you would want to keep in shape for football?"

Blaine gripped the edge of the seat of the couch with both hands as he waited to be spotted. He heard a low, grumbling voice reply to the woman and noticed Kurt tensing out the corner of his eye as the sounds of voices, footsteps, and rustling plastic bags got louder. He was so wound up with fear he missed most of what was being said as Kurt's family drew closer and he only caught what another male voice said because Kurt's name was included in the sentence.

"Kurt must be through here, I hear the TV."

Most of the rustling and footsteps faded in the direction of the kitchen.

"Kurt," the voice said more loudly, "can you come and help- Oh, I didn't realise you had a friend over."

The footsteps had come to a halt and Blaine could sense the owner of the voice standing behind him near the door. Swallowing and taking a deep breath, he shifted and turned to look in the direction the voice had come from.

A man who could only be Kurt's father stood just inside the doorway, looking curiously between Kurt and Blaine. Kurt must have inherited a lot of his mother's features because the man wasn't instantly recognisable; it was only because Blaine knew Kurt so well that he recognised the similarities in their appearances. The man was wearing jeans, a flannel shirt, and a baseball cap, the polar opposite of Kurt's carefully selected outfits, but his eyes held the same warmth as Kurt's.

Kurt had also turned to face the door and was smiling at his dad, the slight tremble of his hands in his lap the only sign of his nerves. "Dad, this is my friend, Blaine. Blaine, this is my dad, Burt."

Fighting down his nerves, Blaine thought back to the times his parents had taught him how to greet the guests they had over and felt a pleasant smile bloom on his face. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hummel," he greeted him politely.

Kurt's dad nodded at him. "You too, kid – and call me Burt." After one more nod at Blaine, he shifted his gaze to Kurt. "I was gonna ask you to come help put the groceries away, but seeing as you've got someone over I'll let you off." He took a step back towards the door. "I'll leave you boys to it," he said, starting to turn to leave the room. He paused, swivelling back around to look at Blaine. "You staying for lunch, kid?"

Blaine shot Kurt a quick, nervous glance.

"Yeah, he's staying," Kurt answered for him.

Burt nodded and smiled at Blaine. "You don't have to be so nervous, kid. I don't bite."

Blaine smiled weakly as Burt left the room, finally letting his façade drop and his panic seep to the surface now that he and Kurt were alone again. As he turned to face Kurt he could feel his wide eyes and the paleness of his face and his hands were shaking visibly when he raised one to run it through his hair. He let out a shaky breath just as Kurt slid closer to him.

"You're doing great," Kurt assured him in a low voice, taking one of Blaine's hands in his own and giving it a gentle squeeze. "We'll tell them when we go in for lunch. I'll be there with you." He tipped Blaine's chin up with his free hand so that their eyes met. "You're not alone in this; you're never going to be alone again – I promise. Ok?"

Blaine nodded, feeling a little of his fear ebbing away at Kurt's words and just having him close. Kurt darted a quick glance at the doorway before leaning forward and giving Blaine a quick kiss.

They stared at the TV until Carole called them through for lunch, Kurt keeping a hold of Blaine's hand the entire time, occasionally stroking his thumb over the tops of his knuckles. It helped, though Blaine still felt like his heart was beating too rapidly to be healthy and that his stomach was full of writhing snakes when he stood up on trembling legs that didn't feel stable enough to support him to follow Kurt through to the kitchen.

They could hear the rumbling of Burt's voice interspersed with the occasional comment from Carole as they neared the kitchen door. Just before they entered, Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand one final time.

"You can do this," he murmured. "_We_ can do this." He dropped Blaine's hand and stepped into the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, Blaine followed.

Carole was just closing the fridge door while saying something to Kurt as he accepted a pitcher from her when Blaine entered the bright, noisy kitchen. Behind her, Burt and a tall teenage boy who was clearly Kurt's step-brother Finn were sitting at the table with their food in front of them, arguing good-naturedly about football. Blaine paused just inside the doorway and stared for a moment.

It was the kind of family scene that he had never seen before; his family had _never_ behaved like this.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Carole came hurrying over to him with a warm, friendly smile on her face.

"Hi, Blaine, Kurt told me you were a friend of his. I'm his step-mom, Carole," she greeted him.

Blaine felt some of the tension leave his muscles; Carole was so motherly and nowhere near as intimidating as Burt, he couldn't be as anxious around her. He found himself smiling at her. "Pleased to meet you."

She patted his arm and led him over to the table where she'd set lunch out for him next to Kurt and across from Finn, waving away his thanks with a smile and a, "You're welcome."

Blaine sank down into the chair beside Kurt, shooting a quick, grateful smile when he bumped his knee lightly against his under the table. Then with his heart racing, he raised his eyes to meet the curious gaze of Finn.

"You're Blaine, right?" Finn said once he'd swallowed a mouthful of sandwich.

Blaine couldn't help but notice the size of Finn and how much the other boy would tower over him when he stood up. He tried not to let his nerves show. "Y-Yeah," he stammered.

Cocking his head to the side, Finn squinted at him. "How do you know Kurt?" he asked curiously. "Do you go to McKinley?"

Kurt pressed their legs together as Blaine felt his panic start to build again. "Not exa- No, I don't." His mind searched for an acceptable response to Finn's other question. "I, um- I- Kurt and I-" He shot Kurt a helpless look, begging him to help out.

"We met under some pretty unusual circumstances," Kurt told his family, for Burt and Carole had broken off their conversation and were listening intently to the three teenagers, curiosity burning in their eyes.

Finn looked confused. "Did you almost hit him with your car or something?"

Blaine blinked at the tall boy sitting opposite him, momentarily dropping his frantic thoughts of how best to break the news of where he lived to Kurt's family. Was he being serious?

"What?" Kurt looked thrown. He gave his head a little shake. "No." He licked his lips nervously and darted a glance at his watching father and step-mom.

Just as Kurt opened his mouth, Blaine reached over and took Kurt's hand under the table. When Kurt's eyes met his he nodded and Kurt closed his mouth – this was his story to tell, not Kurt's.

"Kurt and I met about three months ago when he discovered me living alone with only a few belongings and little food and water," he said, his words sounding loud and clear in the silent kitchen.

At Carole's tiny gasp of horror and Burt's look of dawning realisation, he nodded. "At the time I'd been homeless for over six months. Since that day, Kurt has given me food, water, blankets, friendship…" He trailed off, not wanting to continue that thought for too long and start confessing to too much at once. "He saved me," he concluded simply. Kurt gripped his hand tighter.

There was a short pause as his words and the meaning behind them sunk in, then Carole leaned forward, lowering her hand from her mouth and resting her forearms on the table, looking troubled. "Are you still homeless? Where have you been living?"

Blaine took a deep breath and clutched at Kurt's hand as though it was a lifeline – this was it. "I've been living in the attic of this house."

* * *

**A/N: **I had to end it there and you all know if you were writing this you would have done the same ;)

For the reader who was wondering if Cooper would be in this story: there you go, and he'll be back later. And to anyone who wanted/thought someone would walk in on them while they were in Kurt's room together: I thought about going down that route, but didn't want to write something too similar to a story I recently read which also has homeless Blaine in which Blaine meets Kurt's family through them being discovered in Kurt's bed together. I know I would write it differently, but it would bug me. (The story is 'Hearts and Homes' by beautifulwhatsyourhurry in case you're interested and if you haven't read it you should because it's amazing).

Sorry this update is a little later, but I forgot it was Thanksgiving last week in the US.

Thanks for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thanks again to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter: someone isn't pleased when they learn about Blaine's story...


	15. Chapter 15

A stunned silence met Blaine's announcement. It was the kind of silence that seemed to press on Kurt's eardrums and fill the room with a strange, low buzzing. He was sure everyone else seated around the table could hear the rapid thumping of his heart and the choked stutter of the breath caught in his throat. He wanted someone to speak, to respond to Blaine and break the heavy, oppressive silence, but at the same time he wanted to remain ignorant of his family's reactions for as long as possible.

Blaine's hand was gripping his own so tightly he could barely feel his fingers, too numb to even feel the pain. There was a light sheen of sweat gathering on the creases of Blaine's palm and his fingers trembled against the back of Kurt's hand. He avoided looking at Blaine's face purely because he didn't think he could stand to see the look in the smaller boy's eyes; the wide eyes full of deep, painful fear that his imagination was conjuring up were bad enough. He didn't want to look at anyone else either, but after a few long, nerve-wracking seconds of nothing but that deafening silence he couldn't take it any longer and lifted his gaze from the table.

Carole was staring at Blaine with a mixture of shock, concern, and curiosity. Her mouth was working slightly, as though she was trying to say something but had momentarily lost the ability to form coherent thoughts and was struggling to find the words. Next to her, Finn was gaping at Blaine with his hand still resting on his sandwich as if he'd been about to pick it up to take a bite but had forgotten all about it. He looked rather like someone had just hit him over the head with a frying pan: dazed and bewildered. At the head of the table, Burt was eyeing both Blaine and Kurt with eyes that were ever so slightly narrowed. His expression was completely unreadable, a look that made another dose of fear steal through Kurt's veins like poison.

Carole was the first to speak.

"In the attic?" she repeated weakly, looking horrified. "All by yourself?"

"I-" Blaine was so tense that Kurt could feel every tremble of his overwrought muscles through their joined hands. "Y- Yeah. Until Kurt found me, yeah," he stammered.

Finn's eyes flicked to Kurt and something in his gaze hardened. "What does he mean 'until you found him'?" he asked, and Kurt frowned at the strangely harsh tone of his voice and the fact that he was addressing him instead of Blaine.

"I heard him moving around during the night," Kurt explained, not mentioning the disappearing food and books in case any of them started accusing Blaine of stealing, which he had technically done, but only because he didn't have any choice if he wanted to survive. "So, one night when I was home alone I searched the house and found him in the attic. He hardly had any belongings." He swallowed roughly at the memory and concentrated on Blaine's tight grip on his hand: reassuring and calming.

"Why didn't you tell us about this?" Carole asked gently.

Biting his lip, Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his seat; this was one of the questions he'd been dreading.

"That was my fault," Blaine spoke up, drawing all eyes except for Kurt's towards him once more. "I- I asked him not to tell anyone. I-" He faltered and there was a beat. "I was scared," he admitted quietly, his soft voice carrying easily in the silence.

Kurt watched as Carole's expression softened further and she dropped the hand she had stretched out in front of her back down onto the table. Burt's expression was still frighteningly unreadable.

Blaine's free hand twisted shakily in his lap. "I never meant to hide out in someone's home; the house was abandoned when I first started living here and when you moved in I was too scared to leave and I-" He dropped his gaze down to his lap, biting his bottom lip hard in what Kurt knew was his attempt to hold back tears. "I had nowhere else to go. I didn't want to end up on the streets."

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand as best as he could around his death-grip and watched as Carole's eyes filled with tears.

"Of course you didn't," she said reassuringly. "And we would never have let you leave here if you had nowhere else to go, we would have worked something out."

Kurt inhaled a short, sharp breath. _Worked something out_. Was that what was going to happen? Were Carole and his dad going to sit and work out what they thought was best for Blaine and send him off, potentially leaving Kurt's life for good? And Blaine, sweet, selfless, Blaine, wouldn't ever protest or offer his opinion and would be grateful for whatever was decided, he would never ask for what he really wanted since he wouldn't think he deserved it.

Finn was watching Blaine with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean you have nowhere else to go? Don't you have family or anything?" His voice was far too accusatory for Kurt's liking.

"Finn…" Carole began in a warning tone.

Blaine shook his head. "N- No, it's fine, he has the right to ask – you all do." He paused and Kurt desperately tried to catch his eye to let him know that he didn't have to say anything he wasn't comfortable with; his full story about how he came to living here could easily wait until another day when he was more comfortable around Kurt's family, but Blaine didn't seem to notice his attempts.

"I ran away from home around nine months ago when my father began to get violent. I'd been abused at home and at school for years and I couldn't take it anymore." He swallowed. "So to answer your question: no, I don't have any family I can go to."

Carole had a hand covering her mouth and her eyes were wide and glassy with shock and tears. Infuriatingly, Finn was now giving Blaine a cold, disbelieving look.

"What's the problem, Finn?" Kurt snapped at his step-brother.

Finn directed his harsh stare from Blaine to Kurt. "Do you even really know this guy?" he questioned, waving a hand to indicate Blaine, who flinched away from the table as if Finn's words had been a physical attack on him, like a punch to the face.

"_Finn_…" Carole warned again.

Finn ignored his mother and ploughed on, relentless. "How did you know you could trust him? How do _we_ know we can trust him?"

Kurt gritted his teeth as he glared at Finn; he'd had his tense moments with Finn in the past but some sort of affection had kept them from destroying their friendship, but right now Kurt felt nothing but dislike for the tall boy sitting across the table from him. He had known Finn to be rather mean back in his homophobic days, but this was verging on downright cruel.

"_He_ is sitting right here, Finn," Kurt pointed out in a hard voice. "And not that it's any business of yours, but Blaine has shared a lot about his past with me and of course I trust him." He rubbed at Blaine's knuckles with his thumb, hoping to reassure him that no matter how bad things were looking just now, it would be ok. He doubted he was making that much of a difference, though, and he hated to think of what was going on in Blaine's head right now thanks to Finn. He scowled darkly at his step-brother, who didn't even have the sense to stop talking.

"_A lot_ of his past, not all," Finn sneered. "You do realise he could just be telling you all the parts that make him look like a good person, that will make you trust him. He could be hiding anything!"

"That's enough, Finn," Carole said loudly.

Kurt couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe Finn was implying he was some naïve little boy who blindly trusted everyone he met, no matter the circumstances. As Blaine gasped harshly next to him, Kurt stared at Finn in stunned outrage. He felt like a different person was sitting at the table speaking in Finn's voice; he was seeing a whole new side of Finn, one he didn't like at all.

He mouthed wordlessly at his step-brother for a moment, his anger rendering him temporarily speechless. "I can't _believe_ you right now," he said eventually, his words coming out in something close to a shriek.

"Neither can I," another voice said from the head of the table, speaking for the first time since Blaine's announcement.

Kurt turned his head to face his father so quickly that he pulled a muscle in his neck. Ignoring the sudden flash of pain, he stared pleadingly at his dad, willing him to understand, to believe him and Blaine.

Burt wasn't looking at him, though; instead he was glaring at Finn in a way that had the tall boy shrinking in his seat. He held Finn's gaze for a few seconds until Finn dropped his to the table, looking slightly guilty.

"I don't think I've ever been more disappointed in you, Finn," Burt said in a deceptively level voice. Ashamed, colour flooded Finn's cheeks.

Kurt watched the exchange, hardly daring to breathe, and felt his pulse jump and his stomach twist itself into tighter knots when his dad turned away from Finn to look at him and Blaine. Kurt felt Blaine tremble under Burt's gaze and wished he could put an arm around him or do something more comforting than clutch his hand under the table.

"I'm not happy you kept this a secret for so long and I'm surprised you managed to do so," Burt said eventually, his eyes flicking between Kurt and Blaine. Kurt swallowed thickly in the short pause that followed. "You should have told us sooner, we would have helped."

Carole nodded adamantly. "You didn't have to sneak around and struggle by yourselves," she added. "It would have been a lot easier on both of you if you'd told us."

Kurt glanced frantically between his dad and Carole, searching for any sign that he may have missed something and that they weren't saying what he thought they were. It all just seemed too good to be true. A little of his nerves washed away when nothing contradicted the implication in their words.

He licked his dry lips, feeling his hand shake in Blaine's. "S-So, you- you believe us? You believe Blaine?" he asked, wanting the confirmation in a clear statement instead of just implications.

His dad and Carole both nodded. "Of course we do," Burt replied.

Finn muttered something under his breath, freezing the dizzying rush of relief that had begun to spread rapidly through Kurt's veins. He turned to his step-brother and frowned.

Carole, who had obviously heard part of what her son had said, snapped her eyes to Finn, her expression tightening. "What was that?"

Finn flushed and the frown on his face deepened. "I just don't understand why you're all so quick to believe some homeless guy you don't even know who's been living in our attic for months without our knowledge or consent."

Blaine flinched again and Kurt glared at Finn, vowing to never forgive his step-brother until he had apologised to Blaine for the way he was behaving today. And to think he had been stressing over his father's reaction to Blaine when it should have been Finn he was worrying about. He had expected Finn to be his likeable, easy-going, slightly goofy self when he met Blaine, not _this_.

Carole surveyed her son for a moment and Finn's flush deepened. "Even if you don't trust Blaine, don't you trust Kurt?" she asked slowly.

Finn's mouth fell open and for a couple of seconds he simply gaped at his mother before he looked down at the half-eaten sandwich on his plate, a sheepish expression on his face.

A short, tense silence followed this during which Kurt continued to glare at Finn, who was frowning down at his lunch. He felt Blaine start slightly when Burt broke the silence and he guessed Blaine had become lost in his own thoughts.

"You ran away from an abusive home nine months ago?" Burt asked Blaine, his tone carrying a hint of the fierceness it had held when he had first learned of Kurt being bullied.

Blaine shifted in his chair. "Y- Yes, sir," he stammered roughly. He cleared his throat. "I just couldn't stay there any longer," he added in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

As Carole's face creased with worry and concern, Kurt pressed his leg to Blaine's in a silent gesture of support and reassurance.

Burt was nodding slowly. As he rubbed a hand over his face, his eyes distant and his mouth set in a firm, contemplative line, Kurt couldn't stand the suspense anymore.

"Can Blaine stay here?" he blurted out. "We have that spare room that no one ever uses he could have." Feeling Carole's gaze on him, he switched his pleading look from his dad to her and added hastily, "_Please_."

Blaine's hand twitched in his. "Kurt," he protested quietly, "you don't have to-"

"Yes, I do," Kurt replied firmly. "I'm not letting you live out on the streets."

Frowning, Carole sat up straighter in her chair. "Kurt-" she began.

Kurt didn't want to hear any of their objections. "No," he interrupted. "Blaine has nowhere else to go and you can't send him back to his family."

Carole shook her head. "Nobody said-"

"I won't let you do it," Kurt cut in again, gripping Blaine's hand tightly, possessively. "I won't stand by and let you send Blaine off to some godawful place like a _shelter_. I won't."

"Kurt-" his dad and Blaine said in almost perfect unison.

But Kurt was now in full-scale argument mode and fully convinced that everyone was trying to throw Blaine out of the house and was beyond reasoning with. "I'll never forgive you guys if you make him leave," he croaked as the tears that had rapidly filled his eyes spilled down his face and his throat closed up. "I'll never forgive you if-" He broke off as the prospect of never seeing Blaine again filled him and a small, desperate sob escaped him.

As Kurt was rendered speechless by his tears, Burt was finally able to speak.

"Kurt, we're not making Blaine leave," he said, speaking quickly but firmly.

Kurt froze and felt Blaine do the same. Rapidly blinking back his tears so he could clearly see his dad's face to make sure there were no signs of deception, Kurt stuttered, "W- What?"

There was the hint of a smile on Burt's face as he glanced between his son and Blaine. "Blaine can stay here – if he wants to, that is. Like you said, we have a spare room and I couldn't just let him live on the streets or some shelter somewhere."

With hope swelling inside him, Kurt quickly wiped at his damp eyes and cheeks. "You- You mean it?"

Burt nodded. "We have the space and there's already a bed and things up there, so all we need to do is change the sheets and-"

"It's too much," Blaine blurted out suddenly, speaking for the first time since Burt's announcement. His cheeks flushed a deep pink when everyone at the table turned to look at him. "I- I appreciate the offer, but I couldn't accept it. It's bad enough that I was living here so long without your consent and Kurt's done so much for me already and I-" He shook his head. "This is too much."

Kurt swivelled round in his chair to face his boyfriend, feeling frantic. "Blaine-" he began, but Burt spoke over him.

"We can't make you stay here, kid," he said, meeting Blaine's nervous gaze. "But it really isn't any trouble for you to stay here and all of us would much rather you stayed than left." He gave a small shrug. "It's up to you, though. It's your decision to make and we'll support you in whatever you choose to do."

"I-" Blaine met Kurt's frantic, pleading eyes and he hesitated, looking torn. His mouth opened and then closed again, before he swallowed and looked away from Kurt.

'I've lost him,' Kurt thought helplessly, feeling as though something precious and vital was hanging by a fine thread inside of him that was beginning to fray, ready to snap the second Blaine announced that he couldn't accept their offer and was leaving. His chest felt tight and painful and his breaths were sawing out of his constricted throat as he watched Blaine's jaw work. Tears burned in his eyes as he silently begged Blaine not to do it, not to think that he couldn't accept their offer and stay, not to think that he wasn't worthy of anything more than the substandard life he'd been living before, always deprived of something important: safety, food, warmth, love…

Blaine turned back to meet his gaze again. He looked like he had no say in the action, that something beyond his control had pulled his eyes back to Kurt. This time he held it for longer, his own eyes glassy and his expression becoming less conflicted the longer they stared at each other. The kitchen was deafeningly silent again, as though the whole world had stopped and was holding its breath, waiting for Blaine's response.

"I'll stay," Blaine finally said in a near-whisper. "I'll stay," he repeated again in a louder voice.

The fraying thread suddenly repaired and strengthened. Kurt let out a choked sob of relief and dropped Blaine's hand before throwing his arms around the shorter boy, burying his face in his neck and mouthing his thanks and relief into the soft skin there. Blaine's arms came up and held him close for a moment before pulling back, and Kurt reluctantly sat back in his chair; he knew that showing too much affection would trigger suspicions. He swiped at the tears gathering in his eyes and held Blaine's gaze for a second longer, silently communicating the feelings he couldn't say out loud. In the emotional moment, nobody noticed Finn shove back his chair and stride out of the kitchen.

Blaine eventually dragged his eyes away from Kurt to look between Burt and Carole. "Thank you so much for this; I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

Carole was smiling fondly at the two boys across the table from her, her expression slightly teary. "Don't worry about that," she insisted. "We couldn't sleep at night knowing you were somewhere cold or hungry or abused."

Blaine was starting to look a little uncomfortable. "I don't think I can-"

Burt leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and lacing his fingers together. "If it makes you feel better about the arrangement then you can help with chores and things around the house like Kurt and Finn have to do."

Blaine nodded, looking happier. "That sounds good," he said.

A warm, fatherly smile spread across Burt's face as he nodded at Blaine; the first smile like that he'd ever directed at him. "We'll get your room ready after lunch and you can help."

Blaine returned Burt's smile and Kurt was so overjoyed he had to grip at the seat of his chair to stop himself from throwing his arms back around Blaine and kissing him. The thought of the secret he was still hiding from his dad and Carole made his stomach twist with guilt, but knowing all the questions and problems that would arise if he and Blaine did tell them about their relationship made him feel better about it. They would tell them eventually, but they had only just learned about Blaine's existence; it wasn't a good idea to drop another big bombshell on them.

'One thing at a time,' Kurt told himself as he watched Carole offer Blaine some more iced tea. 'Once Blaine has settled in we'll tell them.'

* * *

Blaine didn't think he'd ever get used to this being his. The dresser was now his, and so were the bookshelves, as was the wardrobe that Kurt was excited to fill, and the bed that he was currently sitting on. He absentmindedly trailed his fingers over the smooth, soft surface of the sheets as he surveyed his room and tried to take it all in – _his_ dresser, _his_ bed, _his _bedroom…

He was still running his fingers across the sheets and staring around his new room, taking in every tiny detail, when there was a soft knock at the door – _his_ door to _his _room. He snapped out of his stunned trance and slipped off the bed before shuffling across to the door, feeling a little nervous as he pulled it open. He wasn't completely comfortable around Carole yet and he didn't think he could manage being alone with Burt for a while, so he wasn't exactly sure what to do or how he'd cope if it was either of them at the door. As for Finn, he would prefer to never see him again; he was the epitome of everything he had feared while he had been hiding out in the attic: someone who judged him without getting to know him first and who wanted to kick him out onto the streets or hand him over to the police or his parents.

It wasn't any of them – it was Kurt. His face relaxed into an easy smile when he saw the taller boy.

"Hi," Blaine greeted in a small voice. It felt weird for Kurt to not just be knocking at the door as a warning before climbing the stairs to greet Blaine in the attic.

Kurt beamed at him, his eyes still sparkling with joy. "Hi, can I come in?"

Blaine stood aside and held the door open wider. "Of course you can, you don't have to ask."

Kurt walked passed into the room but then turned back to face him, a soft smile on his face. "I can't just walk into your room without permission." He watched Blaine sit back down on his bed, looking a little hesitant as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. "How does it feel to finally be out of the attic?" he asked after a moment.

Blaine opened his mouth to answer, and then paused, suddenly unsure of what his answer would be. There were a lot of emotions running through him just now: relief at how Burt and Carole had responded; happiness at finally leaving the attic and being able to stay with Kurt; confusion as to why Finn, whom Kurt had always described as likeable though a little dopey, was so opposed to him staying here while the rest of his family wanted him to stay; guilt, sadness, fear, uncertainty… He tried to think of a way to describe his whirlwind of emotions.

"It's…overwhelming," he replied eventually.

Kurt nodded in understanding. "I bet it is, but you'll get used to it soon. You were spending a lot of the last couple of weeks out of the attic anyway. My dad and Carole know to take things slow with you, so," he gave a small shrug, "it'll be fine."

The mention of Carole and Burt had brought the memory of Finn glaring at him with narrowed, mistrusting eyes to the forefront of his mind. He bit his lip as he remembered the way Kurt's step-brother had talked about him, all the things he'd said about him like he wasn't sitting there listening, like he was invisible, like he was something so low and insignificant that he wasn't worthy of inclusion into the conversation or of being treated with respect. It was just like being back with his parents again.

He swallowed. "Finn hates me," he whispered, dropping his gaze to his knees so Kurt couldn't see the pain in his eyes.

He saw Kurt flinch in the periphery of his vision. "Oh, Blaine…" he said quietly, crossing the room and finally joining Blaine on the bed. He placed his hand on Blaine's back and rubbed it soothingly. "Don't worry about him," he said, anger seeping into his voice. "What he said was wrong and awful and it's going to take _a lot_ to get me to forgive him for it." His index finger followed the curve of Blaine's spine. "If I'd known he was going to react like that, I-" he broke off, shaking his head. "I've never been angrier at him than I am right now. I saw a side of him today that I really don't like."

Blaine stared fixedly down at his knees, willing himself not to start crying. He was once again plagued with the reality of living with someone who didn't like him, possibly even hated him.

A soft hand appeared under the chin and tipped his head up until he met Kurt's gaze.

"Just forget about Finn, alright?" Kurt told him gently. "People who behave like that aren't worth getting upset over."

"But he's your family," Blaine protested.

Kurt's jaw tightened. "Doesn't matter, he's being an ignorant dick." When Blaine's expression didn't change, he added, "I'll talk to him and make him see sense. He'll probably come around soon anyway; he used to be one of the homophobes that threw me in dumpsters at school."

Blaine gaped at him, his own worries momentarily forgotten. "_He what?_"

Kurt nodded, his eyes distant, his mind obviously back in the past. "He eventually came round and apologised after our parents started dating and he's been decent ever since, defending me against Karofsky and stuff." His gaze focused back on Blaine again. "I don't know what's got into him, but I'll talk to him and make sure he's civil around you until he grows up and realises he's being an ass, ok?"

Blaine nodded and Kurt smiled and bent down to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, a gesture so sweet and casually romantic that it made him smile.

Kurt pulled his legs up onto the bed and crossed them so that he was sitting in an identical position to Blaine. "So, do you like your room?" he asked, his gaze wandering over the painted walls and the furniture holding Blaine's few belongings. He reached for Blaine's hand and began absently playing with his fingers.

Blaine nodded. "I love it; I don't know how I'll ever repay you and your family for this. I'll be forever in your debt for everything you've all done for me."

Kurt's hand froze in the middle of skimming his fingers over the bony part of Blaine's wrist. "You're helping with chores and stuff so you don't feel guilty," Kurt reminded him. "I thought you were happy with that?"

"I am," Blaine insisted hastily. "It does make me feel a bit better about this, but it's still nowhere near enough. Nothing ever will be," he finished somewhat glumly.

Removing his hand from Blaine's, Kurt shifted around on the bed until he was facing Blaine squarely and placed his hands on his boyfriend's shoulders. He looked Blaine directly in the eye. "Blaine, stop it," he said in a voice that was firm but gentle at the same time. "Stop thinking that you're unworthy or undeserving of all this."

Blaine wanted to duck his head or lower his gaze, but the fierce affection in Kurt's blue eyes made him unable to look away. Something in Kurt's eyes shifted.

"Do you know how lonely I was before I met you?" Kurt asked him softly, his hands slowly smoothing the breadth of Blaine's shoulder in what appeared to be an unconscious movement. "How often I just sat in my room all by myself wishing I could be like my friends and have a boyfriend to talk to on the phone for hours or to go out on dates with? How utterly miserable I was that nobody really understood me or how I was feeling?" His eyes lowered to Blaine's shoulders where his hands were still stroking over the soft material of the sweater. "Finn has his on-off relationship with Rachel and Dad and Carole are newlyweds, so they're all out most nights spending time together while I'm left home alone." Lifting his gaze again, he gave Blaine a weak smile. "No wonder they never found you living in the attic, they were never home enough."

His hands stilled on the edge of Blaine's shoulders, his thumbs softly caressing the top of Blaine's biceps. "You say I've changed your life for the better? Well, you've done the same for me. Before I met you I wasn't truly happy. I didn't think I'd have any hope of finding someone who would understand me and make me happy until I was out of Ohio. All I wanted was to have someone I could talk to about anything and everything and have them listen and understand, for someone to make me laugh, to just call me out of the blue to tell me a sudden thought that had just popped into their head or to just hear my voice, to brighten my day and remind me that I'm not unlovable or unwanted like I'm told at school."

Blaine wanted to reach for Kurt, pull him against his chest, and hold him and kiss him until all the pain went away, as if he could erase those memories through tender touches and soft presses of his lips, but Kurt's hands still rested on his arms and something about his tone and expression held Blaine frozen in front of him.

Kurt's hands tightened their grip on Blaine's shoulders slightly as he inhaled deeply as if he were stealing up to something. "And then one night I went up into the attic with a flashlight, thinking I was about to learn that all those stories about the house were true after all, and instead there you were, my special someone."

Everything in Blaine's body seemed to freeze – his breath, his heart, his brain – and staring into his eyes was almost like gazing into a pool of every single emotion he was feeling right now in liquid forms of blue, green, or grey; it was breath-taking and beautiful.

"I didn't know it consciously at first, I just knew that there was something about you," Kurt continued, his right hand slowly trailing down the length of Blaine's arm until he reached his hand, curling his fingers around Blaine's. "But you _are_. You're the one that makes my life so much brighter, the one who listens and understands and makes me laugh. You're everything I wished for, so don't _ever_ think you're indebted to me, because you are most definitely not."

It took a couple of seconds for Blaine to move, but then he darted forwards and seared his lips to Kurt's, desperately trying to express everything he felt for the other boy in each press of his lips and sweep of his tongue. He tilted his head slightly to one side to deepen the kiss, the hand not still entwined with Kurt's reaching up to tangle in Kurt's soft hair at the back of his head. He wanted to tell Kurt how much he meant to him, but just as their lips parted and they breathed each other in – eyes still closed, noses brushing, lips occasionally touching in lingering kisses – insecurity flooded him and he found himself incapable of saying those three words.

"You're my everything," he said instead.

The sentiment still made Kurt smile, still made him move in for another kiss, and still showed that Kurt was extremely special to him, but a pang of disappointment still hit Blaine; it wasn't those three words.

* * *

**A/N: **There's the moment you've all been waiting for! And you didn't have to wait too long after that cliffhanger ending on the last chapter. Sorry if you're a fan of Finn, but he's being an ass here.

Who else cried during the Klaine phone call on Thursday's Glee? There should be a warning at the start of any episode where Darren is going to bring out his sad eyes.

Thank you all so much for reading and for all of the reviews! The response to the last chapter was amazing! I don't know if it was that cliffhanger or if it was because you had all been waiting for Blaine to meet Kurt's family, but... wow.

Thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter: Kurt tries to make Finn see sense and Blaine discovers how bad Kurt is being bullied.

(Apparently I'm doing these little teasers at the end of every chapter now).


	16. Chapter 16

It was a strange feeling going to bed that night knowing that Blaine was no longer curled up in multiple layers in his pitiful bed in the attic. It was a good kind of strange, though, one that made Kurt feel warm on the inside and kept a smile on his face. He imagined it would take Blaine a while to get used to it all – before he had bid his boyfriend goodnight he had witnessed him automatically heading back up into the attic before he remembered that he no longer needed to go up there, that he lived down in the house now; that moment of realisation had brought tears to Kurt's eyes.

He knew Blaine still had a long way to go to recover enough from his past to be able to live his life to the fullest again, but right now Kurt felt on top of the world, like he could achieve absolutely anything. He had Blaine out of the attic and he couldn't be more ecstatic; he was riding a buzz that made him feel like pure euphoria was fizzing in his nerves and veins.

Admittedly, the day hadn't gone off without a hitch; Finn's reaction had put a bit of a damper on things, though not quite enough to stop the rush of ecstasy at having Blaine now live in the main part of the house. Thinking of Finn caused anger to bubble up inside him. It had been a sharp slap in the face to know how most people would view Blaine and how much harder things would be now that Blaine was no longer a secret in the attic he could protect.

A quick glance at the clock on his nightstand revealed it was getting late, so Kurt rolled over in his bed until he was curled on his side and tried to shove down all his plans and worries and fears so that he could get some sleep; tomorrow was looking like it would be a difficult day.

As the days passed, Blaine began to settle into his new life, much to Kurt's delight. He still spent most of his time by Kurt's side, but he was slowly becoming more comfortable with being in the kitchen and living room without him, which was a relief since Kurt still had a week of school left before winter break and his dad had only allowed him to take Monday off. Blaine's increasing ease with his new lifestyle didn't stop Kurt from being stressed and on-edge during the school day, counting down the minutes until the final bell. He had told Rachel about Blaine meeting his family on Tuesday morning and she pressed him for all the details until he got annoyed and snapped at her. He regretted it later during Glee club when she pointedly sat on the opposite side of the choir room from him, and everyone else – after a few failed attempts to get him to join in with their cheerful, excited performances of Christmas songs – ignored him and laughed and joked around him, seeming not to notice the tension between him and Finn. Kurt ended up leaving early, unable to join in with upbeat singing and dancing when he was so worried about Blaine.

By Thursday, Blaine was noticeably more comfortable around Carole. He chatted happily to her during meals and Kurt had come home from school to find the pair of them making dinner together, a sight that had immediately erased all his tension from the school day. Carole was doting on Blaine, treating him like he was another one of her sons, giving him extra portions after she declared he was too skinny. She'd gone out and bought all the clothes Blaine had picked out on the internet, and the trying on of outfits that followed had brought the two closer together.

It was a different story with Burt, though. Blaine refused to be alone with him and would stick close to Kurt's side whenever he was in the same room as them. Burt was keeping a respectful distance, and after Blaine had flinched violently when he shouted at Finn to pick up his muddy shoes one time, he was careful not to raise his voice around him.

Finn was hardly ever home these days and avoided both Kurt and Blaine whenever he was, which suited Kurt just fine; it was probably for the best. His first proper encounter with Finn since his step-brother had met Blaine came after dinner on Thursday evening when Kurt went down to the kitchen to make some coffee.

He entered the kitchen to find Finn sitting at the table, drinking chocolate milk and eating some equally unhealthy snack to go along with it. He froze when he spotted Finn there; he didn't know whether to turn around and leave before a shouting match started or to just ignore his step-brother. For a second their eyes met, and then everything Finn had said about Blaine came rushing back. Kurt's eyes hardened and his jaw tightened and he looked away, striding over to the counter and starting to make his coffee.

Tension filled the kitchen, hanging heavy in the air like a thick, invisible cloud. It was silent except for the clattering as Kurt made his drink, working a little louder than usual. He scowled as he banged his mug down on the counter and slammed the cupboard door shut.

"Kurt?" Finn said tentatively.

Ignoring him, Kurt rattled through the cutlery drawer until he found a teaspoon and then he shoved the drawer shut again with a loud thud. He clenched his jaw as he determinedly ignored Finn's presence. He heard Finn's chair scraping on the floor a little as he probably shifted uncomfortably, burning holes into Kurt's back with his glare.

"Kurt," Finn repeated, louder this time.

Gritting his teeth, Kurt drummed his fingers on the countertop in a loud, relentless rhythm. He knew he was being irritating and even a bit rude, but he really didn't care; Finn deserved it.

Finn's chair scraped against the tiled floor again. "Kurt, just hear me out will you?"

Kurt stopped drumming his fingers and gripped the edge of the countertop instead, his body tensing with anticipation of the harshness of Finn's words. "I _really_ don't want to hear you insult Blaine again, Finn," he told him shortly, keeping his eyes fixed on the coffee brewing in front of him.

"I just-" Finn began hastily.

Reaching for the coffee pot, Kurt gripped the counter with his free hand so tightly his knuckles turned white. "I don't want to hear it."

Finn remained silent as Kurt poured his coffee, added milk, and stirred it, the sound of the teaspoon hitting the sides of the mug amplified in the silent kitchen. The tension built as the seconds ticked by, growing like the string of a violin pulled tighter and tighter until Kurt couldn't stand it anymore and it suddenly snapped. He slammed his mug down just as he had been about to take a sip and spun around to face Finn.

"How could you say those things?" he demanded, practically spitting the words at him. "How could you want Blaine thrown out on the street or sent to some shelter after everything he's been through?"

Finn wasn't backing down easily. "And what exactly has he been through?" he replied angrily. "Do _you_ even know?"

Kurt scowled at him. "Yes, I know and it isn't my business to tell; if Blaine wants you to know then he'll tell you."

Finn's eyes narrowed. "How do you know he's telling the truth?"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt folded his arms across his chest. "This again?" he sighed in exasperation. "How do you know if anyone is telling the truth? _I trust him, _Finn."

"Well, I don't."

"Says the person who believed he got his ex-girlfriend pregnant when he hadn't even had sex with her," Kurt snarked.

Face flushing an angry, dark red, Finn shoved his nearly empty glass away from him and for a moment he just glared at Kurt. "It's just weird," he said eventually. "Would you let any homeless person off the street into the house?" A triumphant glint appeared in his eyes when Kurt gaped speechlessly at him. "What's so special about this guy?" he added.

"What's so special about him?" Kurt repeated.

_Everything. He's filled the empty space inside me that I didn't even really realise was there until I met him._

That answer came to him easily enough, but he couldn't tell Finn that. "He's-"

Finn raised an eyebrow, obviously thinking Kurt was unable to answer his question.

Kurt ran a hand through his hair, something he only ever did out of extreme frustration or weariness, and right now it was a combination of both. "He's a boy the same age as us who was abused by his parents and now has no home. How would you feel if that was you and everyone who met you never gave you a chance and just wanted to dump you out in the streets or turn you in to the police?"

Looking a bit guilty, Finn prodded at his glass, pushing it across the table in small movements. "I just don't understand why you kept it a secret for so long. He was living in our house!"

"I told you, he didn't want me to tell anyone. He was scared, and after seeing how _you_ reacted I know why," Kurt shot back. "And keeping it a secret wasn't exactly hard when I'm home alone most days." Shaking his head, Kurt turned away from Finn's stare and picked his coffee back up. "You like to make-out that you're this friendly, likeable, easy-going guy, Finn, but you're really not. You had no problem with Blaine until you found out about his living situation." He began to leave the kitchen, walking passed the table where Finn sat frozen in his seat, still staring at Kurt. He wasn't about to spend his evening arguing with Finn.

He paused and turned back to say one last thing. "I really thought you'd changed from the guy who used to throw me in dumpsters, but you still judge and stereotype people you don't even know." Finn's face was unreadable as Kurt shook his head again and finished in a quieter voice, "You haven't changed at all."

Kurt turned away to leave, feeling exhausted and seriously doubting any coffee would be enough to keep him awake. He was almost at the door when Finn spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Kurt froze and then spun slowly to face his step-brother.

Finn hesitated momentarily upon seeing Kurt's hard stare. "You're right, I don't even know Blaine, I have no right to argue with you over whether he should be allowed to stay or not and I shouldn't have been so quick to make assumptions about the kind of person he was." He shifted slightly in his chair. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

Kurt continued to stare silently at Finn, refusing to soften despite the genuinely apologetic and guilty expression on Finn's face. "It's not me you should be apologising to," he said finally, his voice cold and level. Leaving Finn with that, he left the kitchen.

* * *

The one thing that Blaine still felt really uncomfortable doing even after almost a week of living in the house was going to the bathroom when everyone else was asleep. His room was the only one that didn't have access to an en suite bathroom, so he had to use the one down the hall. This meant walking around the house in the dark. It reminded him so much of sneaking down from the attic to steal food from the kitchen, back before he could go down during the day when they were all out – tiptoeing along the dark hallway, holding his breath in case a floorboard creaked under his weight, easing the door open and praying the hinges didn't squeak.

These days he wasn't trying to be as silent as possible so he wouldn't be caught, he was doing it because he really didn't want to wake anyone up. He still felt like a guest in their home and he knew he would feel that way for a while to come, and he would feel rude and extremely guilty if he woke any of them up.

It was well after midnight and everyone had gone to bed at least an hour ago. He had tried to resist, laying in bed for ages willing himself to fall asleep, but the need eventually became too much to ignore and he was forced to get up and tiptoe across his bedroom, ease the door open just enough to slip through, and creep down the silent hall to the bathroom.

He braced himself before he flushed the toilet, wincing at the thunderous noise it made. Sure he had just woken the entire household up, he padded shamefully over to the sink to wash his hands, not needing to worry about the sound of the water rushing out the faucet when it was masked by the obnoxiously loud toilet. Holding his breath, he peered out the bathroom into the hall, expecting to hear someone tossing restlessly in bed or grumbling about being woken, but all was still silent.

Feeling relieved, he began to tiptoe back to bed when a sudden sound broke the sleepy silence: a small yelp of pain that seemed to come from Kurt's room. He froze in the middle of the hallway, halfway between the bathroom and his bedroom, and stared in the direction it had come from, straining his ears to hear anything else. When a few seconds ticked by and he heard nothing else, he frowned and hesitated, and then set off down the hall towards Kurt's room, still listening for any further sound, wondering if he had maybe imagined the noise or if it had come from outside.

Kurt's bedroom door was partly open and the small slice of room he could see was in darkness. He paused a few feet away from the door, thinking that the noise maybe hadn't come from Kurt's room after all, but then he noticed that the inside of the room wasn't as dark as the rest of the upstairs landing. He crept closer and peered hesitantly into the room.

The door for Kurt's en suite bathroom was cracked open and a thin wedge of bright light was spilling out of it into the dark bedroom. A faint rustling sound was coming from inside, and Blaine could see Kurt's empty bed with the slightly rumpled covers pulled back from the right-hand side – the side Kurt always slept in.

The last thing he wanted to was invade Kurt's privacy, but that sound, that little yelp, had been made by someone in pain. Kurt was _hurt_, and he wasn't about to just go back to bed and ignore that.

Biting his lip, Blaine edged into the room and nervously made his way over to the bathroom door. He hesitated when he reached it, staring at the aged wood and listening to the sounds of Kurt moving around on the other side of it as he tried to decide what to do next. He couldn't just barge in, but he worried that knocking or calling out would wake another family member up.

"Kurt?" he called softly through the door, as quietly as possible.

There was a barely discernible shuffling of feet across tiles and the bathroom door was bumped slightly. Blaine took this as a sign that it was alright to enter, figuring Kurt didn't want to speak for fear of waking anyone up. He gently pushed the door open, stepped into the bathroom, and gasped.

Kurt was standing in front of the mirror, a small first-aid kit open by the side of the sink, a bottle of antiseptic liquid and some gauze pads on the counter next to it. He was shirtless and was dabbing gently at a fairly long, thin cut across the side of his ribs, his face screwed up and his muscles tensed with the pain. Deep purple-blue bruises spread out from the cut across the pale skin covering his ribs, and there were other smaller bruises on his back that were yellowed with age. The injuries were horrifyingly familiar to Blaine.

Kurt jumped at the sound of Blaine's gasp and his head shot up. Upon seeing Blaine standing there, the colour drained from his face and he quickly snatched up his pyjama shirt, holding it up in front of him, angling himself so Blaine couldn't see his back or bruised ribs reflected in the mirror. But it was too late, Blaine had already seen; the damage was done.

"B- Blaine?" Kurt stammered, guilt and panic chasing each other across his face. "I didn't hear you- What are you still doing up?"

It took a moment for Kurt's question to process in Blaine's mind; the image of Kurt's bruised ribs and back was burned into his mind and it was all he could focus on right now. He couldn't even think about how Kurt had received the injuries or compare them to ones he had gotten in the past. Shock was making it extremely difficult for his brain to function properly and all he could do was stare at Kurt in horror.

"I was on my way back from the bathroom when I heard you cry out," he told Kurt numbly. "I did try to let you know that I was coming in..."

Kurt didn't seem to know what else to say and just stood watching Blaine silently, his face pale and his teeth worrying at his bottom lip as he continued to clutch his pyjama shirt in front of him as though it was a shield. He looked tense and wary, like he was just waiting for Blaine to start demanding to know all about the bruises or to march out the room to fetch his dad.

Blaine's initial shock was beginning to wear off and he was gradually regaining the ability to think clearly. He pictured Kurt's ribs and back again, his stomach twisting at the memory of the disfigured soft, pale skin. The placement of the older bruises on his back – spotted over his shoulder-blades and lower back – the narrow cut across his ribs, and the mass bruising surrounding it…He remembered another body, this one reflected in a mirror, marred almost identically. The connection made a dull anger burn deep inside of him and bile rose up into his throat – the bullying still hadn't stopped or lessened.

Remembering how defensive he had been and how much he had shut down the one time someone – an apparently concerned substitute teacher – had abruptly and rather forcibly asked where he had gotten an injury from, Blaine decided not to fire off questions like he wanted. He knew Kurt would tell him the whole story when he was ready. It wasn't anything to do with trust; these were just difficult subjects to talk about, especially with people you cared about, knowing it would cause them pain and worry.

"Did you finish cleaning the cut?" Blaine asked in a soft voice instead, nodding at the gauze pad Kurt had abandoned.

For a second, Kurt looked a little thrown, clearly surprised that Blaine wasn't questioning him like he had been bracing himself for. "Oh," he said, glancing at the gauze he'd tossed aside when he'd grabbed his shirt. "No, I didn't."

Nodding slowly, Blaine moved closer to Kurt and picked up the antiseptic-dampened gauze and reached for Kurt's pyjama shirt, tugging it out of his boyfriend's unresisting hands and setting it aside on the counter. Kurt stood still and watched in silence as Blaine placed a hand on his arm and moved it gently aside so he could get a better look at the cut. Blaine's expression tightened as he rested his left hand on Kurt's chest to steady him before moving to clean the cut, pausing when his hand was only about an inch from Kurt's ribs.

"Let me know if I hurt you." He carefully wiped at the cut with the gauze pad, starting with small, light sweeps and progressing to using more pressure and purposeful strokes as he gained confidence.

Once Blaine was satisfied that the cut was clean, he checked Kurt's torso for any more, searching the smooth, pale skin for any further damage with his breath held. To his relief he only found a couple of tiny scrapes, which he gave a quick swipe with the gauze just for good measure. Setting the gauze aside, he turned his attention to the bruises, his index finger unconsciously ghosting over the skin surrounding the large bruise on his ribs.

"It was Karofsky and his friends again," Kurt said suddenly, his voice barely louder than a whisper but sounding a lot louder in the shocked and pained silence that filled the bathroom.

Blaine lifted his gaze to look at Kurt's face and found the taller boy still watching him with bitter, sad eyes.

"They cornered me as I was leaving to come home this afternoon," Kurt explained. "One of them shoved me into the wall, and then they threw me into a dumpster. That was probably their way of ending the term: dumpster-toss the gay kid one last time." He glanced down at his ribs. "I landed on something sharp – there were some broken desks in there."

Swallowing hard, Blaine looked back down at the large, irregular bruise staining Kurt's skin. The guys that had done this didn't have to carry around a painful and obvious reminder of that dumpster toss with them for days, even weeks, to come; the incident had probably disappeared into the back of their minds soon after they'd done it, never to be thought of again. But Kurt would be forced to remember. All because he was different.

Blaine dropped his hand from Kurt's ribs, his fingers lightly brushing Kurt's stomach as he did so, causing a small but noticeable shiver to run through his boyfriend. "Do you have anything to put on your bruises?" Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded, looking a little distracted, and reached to rummage through his small first aid kit – and that was another thing: how often did Kurt get hurt bad enough to need first-aid supplies in his bathroom? It wasn't really something a typical teenage owned. Blaine had kept a small selection of bandages, antiseptic and things in his school satchel, but he hadn't realised Kurt was being treated badly enough to need similar supplies on hand.

Feeling even more distressed, Blaine watched Kurt pull a tube of cream out of the kit.

"I have arnica," he said, holding the white tube up so Blaine could see. Kurt shrugged as he examined the tube. "It helps a little."

Blaine held out a hand for the cream and Kurt placed the tube in his palm, watching silently as Blaine unscrewed the cap and squeezed a small amount out onto his fingers. Blaine hesitated for a second, the intimacy of what he was about to do suddenly making nerves flutter in his stomach. Taking a deep breath and keeping his mind on task – which wasn't hard, since the sight of the bruises still hit him like a punch to the stomach every time he looked – he began to gently rub the cream into the bruise, careful not to apply too much pressure. He was standing so close to Kurt that he could hear the other boy's breathing, feel his breath stirring the hair on top of his head, feel the warmth radiating from his body, and smell the scent of him beneath the sharp, sterile odour of the antiseptic. Any other time this would have had his body tingling with anticipation, but right now he was too absorbed in caring for his boyfriend to think that way.

When he was finished with the arnica, Blaine capped the tube and set it aside, slowly and lightly massaging the last smear of the cream into the lowest part of Kurt's bruise. Everything was so still and quiet it felt like the rest of the world was frozen and they were in some private pocket of space where every second lasted twice as long and every tiny detail of Kurt's appearance was sharply defined. He let his hand drift a little further down Kurt's side until his thumb was softly stroking at his waist.

"Nobody else knows about this, do they?" Blaine asked after a moment, lifting his eyes to see Kurt looking guilty again.

"No," Kurt replied. "I don't want my dad to worry and it's Christmas soon…I don't want to put a damper on the holiday by telling them about this."

Blaine glanced briefly down at the bruising again. His stomach twisted.

"You weren't going to tell me either," he noted; not questioning him, just stating the fact.

"I-" Kurt hesitated, worry and pain adding to the guilt in his eyes. "I didn't want you to worry," he whispered after a pause. "You have enough on your plate right now; you don't need my problems on top of all that."

Blaine's thumb stilled against Kurt's waist. "Kurt, I'll always have room for any problems you have and I'll always have time to help you with them," he said in a soft voice. Kurt's gaze lowered to the floor and Blaine placed a hand under his chin to tilt his head back up so their eyes met again. "I thought we shared things like this?"

Kurt tried to duck his head again as a small burst of shame appeared in his eyes, but Blaine's hand remained under his chin, keeping his eyes up. "We do," Kurt replied quietly. "I just didn't want you to find out how bad it was. After everything you've been through and knowing how much this would hurt you to see…I wanted to protect you."

"I don't need protecting," Blaine murmured. "Not from anything like this."

The corners of Kurt's mouth quirked up into a tiny smile. "I know." His hands came up to rest on Blaine's shoulders. "It's hard to remember sometimes that you can't shelter someone from all of the bad in the world, no matter how much you may want to, and I've tried so hard to do that for you since the night we met; I just didn't think it was fair that someone like you had gotten such a crap deal in life." Kurt gave a little shrug. "I thought you'd had enough pain and distress in your life; you didn't need me bringing you more."

A soft crooked smile spread across Blaine's face as he slid his hand up from Kurt's chin until he was cupping the other boy's face, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into a spot just below his eye. "You bring the greatest good into my life and nothing I experience will ever take that away from me, no matter how bad it is."

A sort of stunned wonder filled Kurt's eyes as he simply gazed at Blaine for a moment, before leaning down and kissing him, his lips moving against Blaine's in soft caresses. Something in the movement of his lips, the taste of his mouth, or the way he pulled Blaine closer made Blaine's heart stutter and a heady rush of pleasure surged through him.

He discovered what it was when Kurt turned his head slightly to one side, pressed a kiss to the corner of Blaine's mouth and murmured, "I love you."

It took Blaine a few seconds to respond, his body freezing as he wondered if he'd heard correctly. Then happiness flooded through him in a warm, heart-filling wave. He slid his right hand up Kurt's side, following the curve of his waist until he felt the ladder of his ribs beneath the soft skin. Brushing his lips across Kurt's once more, he tenderly traced around the edges of Kurt's bruise with the pads of his fingers.

"I love you, too."

* * *

**A/N: **Bruises :( and I love yous :)

A couple of people weren't too happy with the way Finn reacted last chapter which is fair enough, but hopefully this chapter explains things a little more. I did already explain my reasons for writing Finn that way to those whose reviews I could reply to, but for those who were on anon here's my response: one of the main reasons I made Finn react that way is because it is completely understandable to be freaked out when you learn that someone has been living in your house for months without you knowing and it isn't completely irrational of him not to trust Blaine. I wanted to have someone react that way because it's a realistic reaction to the situation. As the story is told from Kurt and Blaine's perspective it makes Finn appear to be the bad guy, but he isn't really wrong to behave that way.

Seeing as I no longer update twice a week (how did I manage that before? Time has been going so fast lately) I've been thinking about posting a little preview of the next chapter on Tumblr between updating days, would anyone be interested in something like that? (Tumblr link is on my profile page)

Once again, thank you so much for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter: Christmas is coming and it's not an easy time of the year for Blaine...


	17. Chapter 17

I love you, too.

_I love you, too._

Blaine's words kept repeating over and over again in Kurt's head in a wonderful, heart-stuttering loop that made his lips twitch up into a smile and his heart swell.

A boy was in love with him; _Blaine_ was in love with him.

He kept reminding himself of that, the fact still inducing shock and disbelief in spite of the many times he'd replayed the memory. It just seemed too good to be true. He had been told almost daily since the age of thirteen by his homophobic classmates that no one would ever want him, and yet here he was at seventeen with a boy declaring his love for him; it was like a dream.

Shy smiles had followed their admissions. Then there had been some more kisses, a few sweet words murmured into each other's ears, soft caresses and gentle brushes of skin, followed by yet even more tender kisses. Several times Blaine's gaze had lowered to Kurt's bruised ribs, his eyes filling with pain and distress each time as he ghosted his fingers over the cut, the pads of his fingers only barely brushing the stained skin. Every time this happened Kurt had taken the hand hovering at his side and laced their fingers together, pressing a kiss to Blaine's knuckles followed by another one to his mouth, reassuring that it would be alright.

After a while Blaine had mentioned the late hour and Kurt had pulled his pyjama shirt back on before helping Blaine tidy away the first-aid kit. A goodnight kiss later and Kurt was lying in bed with a wide smile on his face as he relived the moment Blaine told him he loved him over and over again.

Never in a million years would he have guessed that he would find love in Ohio; he'd been positive he would have to wait until he was at college in New York City before he even got his first boyfriend, and now here he was with both, and still in Lima. He had never thought it would happen, but then again, he had never counted on meeting someone like Blaine.

If someone had told him a year ago that he would fall in love with a homeless boy living in his attic he would have laughed and suggested they pay a visit to a counsellor. He had never really given much thought to his particular type of guy, but after his stupid crush on Finn he never would have guessed Blaine would be the kind of guy he would fall for. Blaine was everything he had never known he wanted, everything he hadn't known was missing from his life until he had met him.

With a happy sigh he rolled over in his bed, the smile on his face slipping briefly when the movement tugged at his bruised ribs. He did feel really guilty keeping the full extent of his bullying from Blaine and his family, especially since they all believed he shared everything important with them. Blaine finding out tonight, though a shock, had taken a huge weight off his shoulders and he felt more capable of coping with it. He knew he would have to tell his dad and Carole at some point, but the thought of all the strain and worry it would put them under, the potential effect on his dad's health, and his complete lack of belief that the bullying would ever stop completely made him reluctant.

Gnawing anxiously on his bottom lip, Kurt weighed his options, his hand unconsciously drifting up to brush lightly over his ribs every now and then, applying just enough pressure so that the barest hint of pain was felt. He could tell his dad and Carole the whole truth tomorrow, answer all their questions, watch his dad get wound up into an angry, agitated state, create a dark cloud to hover over their Christmas holidays. Or he could wait until he was back at school to tell them. They would still get worked up, but it wouldn't be so bad since they could go to the school and take some sort of action straight away. The final option he had was not telling them at all; he only had half a year left before graduation, after all, and he'd coped with the bullying for several years now. He could last for another few months without letting them know.

The final option didn't appeal to him at all – he didn't like keeping things from his father, especially something big like this, and Blaine had been the only exception to his self-made rule to not hide anything important from his dad, and that was only because his situation was so fragile and unique. He knew the truth would come out at some point, and he couldn't bear the thought of how disappointed his dad would be in him for keeping it a secret.

The thought of ruining the joyous mood of Christmas, however, was almost as unappealing. There was really only one viable option for him.

A quick glance at the clock told him that it was after two in the morning, so Kurt pushed the thoughts and worries aside for the time being and closed his eyes. He knew Blaine would want more answers about his bullying than he had given him earlier, so he would talk to his boyfriend about it when he woke up and make a final decision about where to go from there with his input.

Breakfast the next morning was a quiet affair. Carole had left early to go on one of the final Christmas shopping trips, Burt was absorbed in reading the newspaper as he sipped at his coffee, and Finn was once again absent, either still in bed or out of the house, which was a bit of a disappointment to Kurt, who had hoped their discussion about Blaine the other day would mean he'd make an effort to apologise and sort things out between them. The kitchen was silent save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of pages.

Blaine and Kurt were sitting next to each other, Blaine's chair close to Kurt's as it always was whenever Burt was in the room with them, and it was hard, so very hard, for Kurt not to just reach over and take Blaine's hand or lean closer and rest his head on his shoulder. The air between them seemed to crackle with electricity and every muscle in Kurt's body strained to reach for the boy he loved.

He slipped up every now and then and snuck quick glances at Blaine as he lifted his coffee mug to his mouth, and would let his arm brush against Blaine's as he set it back down on the table. Twice he caught Blaine looking at him: the first time he had been watching him chase the last piece of fruit around the bowl with a fond smile on his face. When Kurt's gaze had drifted sideways as he popped the small wedge of melon into his mouth, their eyes had met for a few brief seconds until Burt had turned a page of his paper and Blaine had looked away hastily, his cheeks tinged with a light blush. The second time Blaine was frowning down at his side, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip in a seemingly unconscious gesture. He only appeared to realise what he was doing when he looked up at Kurt's face with worry in his large hazel eyes to find Kurt watching him.

After that the unanswered questions and the untold details about Kurt's bullying hung in the silent kitchen, and Kurt just wanted breakfast to be over so he and Blaine could go somewhere they wouldn't be interrupted to talk about it.

The small slapping noise of his dad setting his folded paper aside made Kurt jump slightly in his seat as he was pulled out of his thoughts. Across the table from him his dad was stretching, one of his joints giving a faint pop.

"You boys going to help with these decorations?" he asked, his eyes flicking between Kurt and Blaine.

"Oh." Kurt shot a quick glance in Blaine's direction to find him looking to Kurt for the answer. "Yeah, of course." After everything that had happened yesterday he'd forgotten about the plans to put up all the Christmas decorations today. That explained Finn's absence; he would be out getting the tree.

Nodding, Burt gathered up his empty coffee mug and newspaper before getting to his feet. "You two can go bring everything in from the garage, then." He placed his mug in the dishwasher and headed for the door. "I'm gonna call Finn and see where he's got to and clear the space for the tree."

Once the sound of Burt's footsteps had faded, Blaine relaxed out of the slightly tense state he was always in whenever the older man was around.

"So, it looks like we'll be spending the day putting up Christmas decorations," he said, smiling as Kurt gave in to temptation and entwined their fingers.

"Only if you want to," Kurt told him. "You don't have to help if you don't want to."

Blaine shook his head. "No, I want to," he assured hastily. "I've never decorated a house for Christmas before."

Blinking in surprise, Kurt froze in the midst of tracing random patterns onto the back of Blaine's hand with his thumb. "Never?" he repeated.

"Never," Blaine confirmed with a hint of bitterness. His gaze grew distant, caught up in the images of his past playing in his mind's eye. "My parents never really got into the Christmas spirit, and they always paid some interior designer to decorate the house for Christmas for all of their dinner parties. They had some kind of unspoken competition with their friends on who had the best decorated house and hosted the best parties."

Kurt stared at his boyfriend as this new little titbit slowly sunk in. "Well," he said, in as bright a voice as he could muster, "we can try and make up for all those years you missed today." Pushing his current thoughts aside, he got to his feet, tugging Blaine up with him. "Come on!"

After quickly clearing up their breakfast dishes, Kurt led the way into the chilly garage. He let go of Blaine's hand when they reached the shelves mounted on the far wall and scanned the neat rows of boxes, occasionally tilting his head slightly to one side to read the label scrawled at an angle across the front in marker.

"So, we need all these boxes here," Kurt said, pointing at the right-hand side of the lowest shelf. "And these ones as well." He indicated the rest of the boxes near the top that were marked as being Christmas decorations. "You can do the lower shelves. I'll have to do the higher ones you can't reach," he teased, shooting Blaine a smirk as the shorter boy pretended to scowl.

They worked in silence, the only noise coming from the scraping of the cardboard boxes against the metal shelves as they pulled them down, the occasional soft jingle of a bell or clink of baubles from inside them, and their shuffling of feet. It was so easy, so relaxed and domestic that Kurt found himself really enjoying the simple, mundane task. He smiled contently as he stretched for a smaller box sitting on the highest shelf and winced at the strain on his tender side. He tried not to react too much so Blaine wouldn't notice, but he was unable to prevent the soft hiss of pain.

"Are you ok?" Blaine asked, looking over immediately with a concerned expression and setting down the box in his hands. "You should be careful; some of them are really heavy."

Kurt nodded, trying to force a smile and pretend that's all it was, just a too-heavy box, but when he tugged another one towards him the sharp twinge of pain jabbed at his ribs again and he pressed a hand to his side without thinking.

Blaine was beside him in an instant. "It's your ribs, isn't it?" he asked quietly, his forehead creased with worry and his eyes full of concern. Kurt bit his lip and gave a small nod in conformation and Blaine raised a hand to ever so lightly caress his bruising. "You shouldn't be doing this if it's hurting you. I can get something to stand on to reach the higher shelves."

Kurt nodded again and whispered a quick thanks before moving to fetch Blaine something to stand on, but was stopped by Blaine's hand on his arm. He looked back up at his boyfriend to find that his frown had deepened and his eyes were searching the length of Kurt's body. They stood for a moment, Kurt caught under Blaine's gaze, until Blaine leaned forward and brushed a kiss to Kurt's cheek before turning away.

There was more of the contented silence as Kurt fetched a crate for Blaine to stand on and they pulled down the last few boxes.

"How long has it been that bad?" Blaine spoke up suddenly and Kurt knew what he was referring to straight away. He toed at a box by his feet, feeling a little nervous despite Blaine's calm tone.

"Um, that was the worst it's been. I've received some fairly large bruises on my back and ribs before, but nothing as bad as this," Kurt replied quietly, sounding almost timid as he worried about how much Blaine was going to ask and what his reactions would be when he found out the whole truth.

Blaine nodded slowly. "Where are we taking these decorations?"

"The decorations?" Kurt repeated blankly, the sudden change in topic throwing him. "Oh, they're- The living room."

They had made several trips between the garage and the living room and had moved most of the boxes of decorations inside when Blaine brought the subject up again.

"You never told Carole about it like you said you would, did you?" he asked as they crossed the garage to fetch the last few boxes.

Kurt came to a halt and spun slowly round to face his boyfriend, meeting his gaze and shaking his head guiltily. "I- I was going to tell her, but I knew there was no way she would hide it from my dad and I didn't want him worrying about me, and then the bullying wasn't too bad for a while so I-"

A hand placed over his mouth cut him off and Blaine gave a small, empathetic smile. "It's ok," he assured. "I understand. I've been in your situation before; I know how you feel." He moved his hand away from Kurt's mouth and rested it on his shoulder instead, rubbing soothingly at it with his thumb. "I know how easy it is to start keeping everything to yourself, but if you bottle all of it up inside you it can become dangerous."

"I'm not-" Kurt began, but Blaine cut him off again.

"You're talking to me about it, I know, but I can't help when you're at school and Kurt, you should really tell your family," Blaine said in a serious voice. "You can't keep this a secret from them. I didn't have a supporting, loving family like you do to help me, so please use yours, Kurt. This bullying has gone too far."

Kurt nodded. "I'll tell them, I promise," he swore. "But, can you-" He hesitated for a second. "Can you be there with me when I do?"

Blaine nibbled on his bottom lip. "Kurt, I don't think this is something I should be there for; it's a private matter between you and your family." He absently straightened out the neckline of Kurt's sweater.

"Please," Kurt begged.

His hand stilling by Kurt's neck, Blaine nodded. "Ok, I'll be there."

Smiling in grateful appreciation, Kurt leaned in and kissed him. "Thank you." He paused for a moment, and then said, "I'm not telling them until after the Christmas holidays are over, though. I don't want to ruin the holidays with something like this."

A small frown creased the skin between Blaine's eyes.

"You don't think that's a good idea?" Kurt guessed.

Blaine gave his head a small shake, the frown line smoothing out. "If that's the time you think is best to tell them then go with that; I'm not going to try and persuade you to do otherwise – you never do that with me. Just as long as you do tell them before it gets worse."

Kurt nodded. "I promise." He reached up to cover the hand Blaine still had resting on his shoulder with his own. A soft smile spread across Blaine's face when Kurt laced their fingers together and

Kurt just had to duck his head to the side and press a kiss to the side of Blaine's wrist. "I wanted to tell you for a while, you know," he said.

Blaine, who had been looking at their entwined hands where they rested on Kurt's shoulder, glanced up at him with slight confusion in his eyes.

"I knew how I felt about you for over a week and I spent the last few days trying to find the right moment to tell you," Kurt explained. His smile widened. "I wanted it to be perfect for you, to be really romantic, where you forgot all of your worries and you got a happy memory to keep forever. But I just _had_ to tell you last night."

Blaine's eyes closed for the briefest of moments as he gave his head a tiny shake, and when he opened them again they were a shining golden-hazel and filled with a breath-taking amount of love. "I didn't need a big moment with flowers or candles to make it perfect," he said in a soft voice. "A natural moment where those three words just had to be said, where they came straight from the heart without being part of a planned speech was perfect to me – _you're _perfect to me."

Heart soaring, Kurt leaned in to kiss him, squeezing the hand still resting on his shoulder when an 'I love you' was murmured against his mouth. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss and Blaine had just begun clutching him closer when the loud slamming of a car door jolted into Kurt's awareness.

"I've got the tree!" Finn's voice called happily from the other side of the garage door.

Kurt reluctantly drew away from Blaine. "We should get the last of these decorations inside." He nudged a box with his foot. He laughed in delight as Blaine hooked an arm around his waist and snuck in one last kiss, his mood soaring from love and the giddy happiness that only Christmas-time could bring.

* * *

The house was decorated, the tree was glittering in the corner of the living room, the yard had transformed into a dazzling winter wonderland, and the delicious smells of cooking wafted through the house. Christmas was just around the corner. As December twenty-fifth drew closer, the amount of time the Hudson-Hummel family spent together increased, significantly so when Carole finished work for the year and Burt left the running of the garage to his employees for the last few days before it closed for Christmas. They watched Christmas movies together during lazy afternoons spent indoors while snow drifted passed the windows, ate Christmas cookies made from Kurt's own recipe as a fire crackled in the grate and the tree lights twinkled, and decorated gingerbread men and houses on the eighteenth to mark one week until Christmas Day, as per their tradition.

Being a kind of honorary member of the family, Blaine was included in all of these activities as well, but he always felt uneasy during them. Although he was a lot more comfortable with living in the house now, he still felt like an intruder whenever he was included in the family moments, a feeling that strengthened as Christmas Day drew closer.

With the holiday meant to be spent with family fast approaching and seeing the Hudson-Hummels joyfully prepare and look forward to the day filled Blaine's head with other, more depressing thoughts. This was his first Christmas since he had run away from home, the first Christmas without his family. Though Christmas in the Anderson household had never had the feelings of warmth and love that currently filled the Hudson-Hummel home, it was still Christmas, still a day Blaine had spent with his parents and, in the earlier years, Cooper, still a day relatives visited and jokes and stories were told, and though the day was structured and proper, it was the one day a year an insult or degrading comment never left either of his parents' lips; it was the one day a year Blaine felt something close to happiness.

It hurt watching the way Kurt and his family were around each other and Blaine couldn't help but wonder why his family had never been like that, why he had never been able to experience a Christmas like this or have a family who behaved as the Hudson-Hummel's did all the time; it hurt so much.

It hurt _too_ much.

As the feelings of being an outsider increased, Blaine began to distance himself from the rest of the household. He avoided being downstairs if he could, choosing to stay in his room instead, and made excuses for why he couldn't join in with them: he was tired, he wanted to finish the schoolwork he'd been set for over the holidays, he had a bit of a cold and didn't want anyone else to catch it…

They always accepted his excuses without question, Kurt managing to hide nearly all of his disappointment, and while the family enjoyed themselves downstairs, Blaine would lie on his bed staring up at the ceiling, the old feelings of worthlessness and abandonment rising inside him as he wondered what his parents and Cooper were doing now and if any of them ever thought about him these days. Following this train of thought always led to tears and he would have to roll over and bury his face in his pillow to muffle the wrenching sobs and ragged, choked breaths – he didn't want to put a damper on everyone else's Christmas with his issues.

He found Christmas Eve especially difficult. It seemed like every few minutes his brain would dredge up an old memory of Christmas-time with his parents, and this would always lead to him torturing himself by picturing the inside of the Anderson house at that very moment, all professionally decorated, and wondering yet again why he didn't have a family who loved him. These thoughts never failed to cause at least a dozen different emotions to hit him with the force of a freight train and he kept having to duck out of whichever room he was in to have a minute or two alone to try and reign it all in, frantically gulping in large lungfuls of air and blinking around the prickling in his blurring eyes.

It got a little easier in the afternoon when Kurt and Finn went to a local homeless shelter as part of something their Glee club was doing since Blaine was able to retreat to his room without arousing suspicion – Burt and Carole knew he was still uneasy being around Burt when he didn't have Kurt there with him. Crying made him feel better, enough so that he would be able to get through the remainder of the day without hurting quite so much, and when Kurt and Finn returned in the late afternoon he washed his face, checked to make sure the red puffiness had cleared from his eyes and face, and went downstairs where he was able to greet Kurt with a smile.

He was actually starting to feel a little positive by the time dinner was over. His wounds were starting to scab over again and he walked through to the living room wearing a smile that wasn't feigned for the first time that day. With his improved mood came courage and he had decided to take another step towards trusting Burt. He knew Kurt's father was a kind, generous man who would never cause him any harm, but there was a deeply ingrained mistrust inside him that had been planted there by his own father that made it hard for him to trust him. He was determined to uproot this instinctual unease and today seemed a good day to work on doing it.

He had just left Kurt and Carole in the kitchen, doing the final preparations for tomorrow's Christmas dinner, and was going to join Burt and Finn in the living room. With his heart racing, he paused by the doorway, listening to Burt and Finn talking as he took a last few settling breaths and attempted to stop the visible trembles running through his body before he entered the room.

'You can do this,' he told himself firmly. 'Even if you don't fully trust Burt yet, you trust Kurt; it will be fine. You can do this.'

Exhaling deeply and nodding to himself, he moved to enter the room, but froze when he heard his name from inside.

"-Blaine going to stay here?" Finn was saying. "Why doesn't his own family want him home for Christmas? It's weird having him here."

Stumbling backwards, Blaine felt a stab of pain to his chest as the air froze in his lungs and tears sprung to his eyes. Finn was right: it _was_ weird, him being here. His family didn't want him at Christmas and members of this family clearly felt the same way. He felt like some sort of undesirable heirloom that was passed around between people, nobody really wanting it but agreeing to keep it for a little while anyway.

Unwanted.

'_Why doesn't his own family want him home for Christmas?'_

Rejected.

'_You're not my son.'_

Abandoned.

'_You're not alone in this, you're never going to be alone again – I promise.'_

It was hard to breathe. It was hard to think. He needed air and he needed space and he needed to think. It was all too much.

Turning away from the sounds of Burt and Finn singing along to carols coming from an old record player Burt had dug out – "Because the crackle adds to the mood of the song" – Blaine headed for the front door and opened it quietly.

Outside the snow was falling thickly and the deep layer covering everything in the street made it lighter than it usually would be as the moon reflected off the dazzlingly white snow. Hunching his shoulders against the frigid air, he stepped out into the night and, with his thoughts whirling like the snowflakes tumbling to the ground around him, and without a destination in mind, set off down the street.

* * *

**A/N: **Oops, another cliffhanger-ish ending. At least it's not as bad as the last one.

I've started posting chapter previews on my Tumblr (link on my profile page), so if you want to check that out you can. I posted the last one on Wednesday evening (UK time) and I'll probably stick to that timing.

Seeing as Christmas is coming up I'm not sure if there will be another chapter posted before Christmas Day or not - it depends on how busy my beta is. Hopefully I'll be able to post another chapter before Christmas.

Thank you for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter: Kurt notices Blaine is missing and Blaine's Christmas turns out to be better than he thought it would be.


	18. Chapter 18

Kurt was worried. He had noticed Blaine distancing himself over the last week or so and he knew it was because it was his first Christmas since he'd run away from home, his first Christmas without his family. Kurt felt awful; he knew his boyfriend was hurting. Blaine tried to hide it, but his eyes were often shadowed, his smiles strained, and he had noticed Blaine appearing in the mornings with red eyes that spoke of tears and lack of sleep. The worst part was that Kurt had no idea how to help him. He tried his hardest to make Blaine feel like part of the family and he knew his dad and Carole were doing the same, but sometimes he wondered if they were doing more harm than good.

Something he knew was bound to be making it worse was that Finn and Blaine had still not yet talked. There had been a palpably tense atmosphere during their last Friday night dinner: Finn had foregone his usual seat to be as far away from Blaine as he could and was for once silent as he ate, uncharacteristically picking at his food and not having a second helping. Burt and Carole had tried their best to lift the tension, but it had still lingered throughout the whole meal as Finn frowned down at his plate and Blaine barely spoke. Kurt's heart had sunk at Finn's behaviour – he just wanted Blaine to stop feeling mistrusted and disliked – but he'd had a lot of time to think about Finn's behaviour and he now understood why his step-brother had reacted the way he had. He realised now that to everyone else he probably appeared to be a little crazy, allowing a homeless boy to remain living in his home.

Sighing heavily, he dried the last dish and placed it back in the cupboard, nudging the door shut with his knee. Maybe he _had_ been a little crazy to trust Blaine straight away, but it had absolutely been the right thing to do.

Hearing his sigh, Carole looked up from where she was placing potatoes in a large pan. "Worrying about Blaine again?" she asked knowingly.

Leaning back against the counter, Kurt picked up a metal spoon Carole had set out and began absentmindedly twirling it in his right hand. "It's his first Christmas without his family; I can't help but worry."

Carole nodded. "I think this is almost as hard on you as it is on Blaine."

Kurt shrugged, his gaze remaining fixed on the spoon in his hand. "After everything he's been through, he deserves to feel safe and happy. It doesn't matter how I'm doing – I have a home and a family who loves me. He doesn't."

"Of course it matters," Carole insisted, dropping the last couple of potatoes into the pan and turning to face him. "You shouldn't be trying to deal with the kind of things Blaine's been through at your age. I know you want to help him, but there is a limit to what you can do. You're only seventeen, Kurt." She paused, and there was something in her tone that had Kurt lifting his eyes from the spoon. She was watching him concernedly. "I've seen how tired and stressed you've been lately," she said softly. "If you keep going on like this you'll end up with some serious problems of your own."

Kurt tossed the spoon aside onto the counter. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked. "I can't just leave him to cope on his own after the year he's had, and I don't think he's ready to start sharing his story and problems with other people yet."

For a moment Carole took in his determined expression, and then she let out a small sigh of resignation. "Just let your dad or me know if it's getting to be too much. If you keep going like this you'll end up ill."

Nodding automatically in response, Kurt unhitched himself from the counter. "Is everything ready for tomorrow?"

Carole didn't look like she was particularly convinced by his response, but she didn't pursue the subject. "I think so," she said, her gaze sweeping round the kitchen as she checked that it was all done. "Yes," she confirmed with a nod, "it's all ready. Let's go join the others."

They moved through to the living room, where Burt and Finn were putting out the Christmas cards they'd received while singing along to the carols on the old record player, Burt just ever so slightly off-key – Kurt had inherited his singing talent from his mother. With the decorated tree standing proudly in the corner, the fire crackling in the grate, and the snow building up on the outside of the window, it was like looking at a picture-perfect scene from a Christmas movie – except something was missing…

"Where's Blaine?" Kurt asked.

Neither his dad nor Finn heard him; Finn was still singing loudly as he balanced another card on the mantelpiece, his hand hovering by it for a second ready to catch it if it fell over, and Burt was standing right by the record player, the music too loud for him to hear Kurt's voice over it. Carole heard, though, and she looked quickly around the room before stepping forward to check on the couch. She shook her head. "He's not here."

Kurt's heart sank; he'd thought Blaine was doing so well, but his boyfriend clearly needed more time to feel completely comfortable around his family. He wasn't frustrated with this lack of progress and he didn't blame Blaine – he couldn't begin to imagine how hard it all must be – but he couldn't help but wish for a fast and smooth improvement.

Turning away from his family's warmth and festive spirit, he headed upstairs to Blaine's room. He was probably sitting in there, listening to the muffled sounds of Kurt's family downstairs and maybe even crying again. The image tugged painfully at something in his chest.

Blaine's bedroom door was closed and he hovered outside for a moment, listening carefully for any sound within, but it was silent; he wondered if Blaine was asleep.

"Blaine?" he called, knocking softly on the door. He waited for a short while, giving Blaine the chance to compose himself if he had indeed been crying, but when there was no answer Kurt knocked again, harder this time. He worried at his bottom lip with his teeth as he waited for any response and when there was still none, he slowly opened the door.

Blaine wasn't in his room. Worry creased Kurt's forehead into a frown, but he couldn't help but linger in the room.

It was most definitely Blaine's now, and could no longer be called the guest room. It had taken on Blaine's personality and upon stepping inside it was quite clear who it belonged to. It was just so fundamentally _Blaine_, from the way the bed was neatly made, the sheets pulled straight and tight, to how the books were stacked on the shelves. The room had even taken on Blaine's scent and Kurt was hit with the familiar, comforting smell that made him think of warmth, love, home, and _Blaine _when he opened the door. But Blaine wasn't here, so with one last worried glance at the empty bed, Kurt let himself out of the room.

He searched every room twice, even going into his dad and Carole's room, though he couldn't imagine why Blaine would ever go in there, but didn't find him. He began to feel panicky as he desperately tried to think of places in the house where Blaine may have holed himself up to try and escape the happy family scenes. His heart sank further the longer his search remained fruitless and the one place he hoped Blaine hadn't gone to began to look increasingly likely.

Eventually he was forced to concede defeat. Dragging his feet, he made his way to the attic door. He paused, steeling himself for what he would probably find. Letting out a shaky breath, he opened the door and climbed the short flight of stairs up into the attic.

The surfaces of the boxes and crates were free of Blaine's belongings and there was no longer a pile of blankets on the floor. Looking at it now, there was no evidence that a frightened boy had lived up here for the best part of a year. And he was not up there now.

"Blaine?" he whimpered despairingly.

The answering silence was deafening.

With his heart racing painfully in his chest and his breath sawing out of his lungs in frantic gasps, Kurt spun around and thundered down the attic stairs, racing into the living room where his family broke off their excited chatter to blink up at him in surprise.

"Blaine's gone," Kurt blurted.

His dad frowned slightly. "Gone? What do you mean, 'gone'?"

"I mean he's missing," Kurt replied impatiently. "He's not in the house."

"Maybe he just-"

"He wouldn't have just gone outside, Finn," Kurt shot back, knowing what his step-brother had been about to say. "He hasn't left this house in _months_. He's scared to leave it."

"Are you sure he isn't somewhere in the house, sweetie?" Carole asked calmly.

Kurt shook his head. "He's not, I've checked everywhere. He's gone, he's being stupidly selfless and he's left." He didn't realise tears were spilling down his cheeks until one dripped off his chin and landed on his chest.

Carole and Burt were on their feet in an instant, Carole rushing to Kurt's side while Burt left the room. Carole rubbed soothingly at Kurt's back as he cried, trying to calm him down. "I'm sure Blaine wouldn't have just left without saying anything," she said reassuringly.

Gulping in a lungful of air, Kurt shook his head again. "If he was feeling guilty about how much we're doing for him he would have. He told me he felt bad about this; I should've known this might happen."

Carole said something else in soothing tones, but Kurt didn't hear her. More tears leaked out of his eyes as he imagined Blaine walking away from the kitchen after they had talked, crossing to the front door in that silent way of his, pausing to look back over his shoulder before easing the door open and slipping out into the night.

The sudden hush that filled the room as the Christmas record came to an end drew Kurt's attention, and he blinked around his tears, his gaze landing on Finn's slightly confused face where he sat in an armchair near the Christmas tree. And that's when another wave of sobs wracked Kurt's body. Blaine had left on Christmas Eve. It was Christmas Eve and Blaine was out there by himself in the cold and the snow and…

Kurt pressed a trembling hand to his mouth. He turned to the sound of his dad's footsteps returning. A part of him still hoped that Blaine was in the house somewhere and he'd just missed him and now his dad was going to appear in the doorway with Blaine at his side. That part of him shrivelled up and died when his dad came into view, zipping up his coat – Blaine wasn't with him.

"Right," Burt said in an authoritative voice, "he can't have gone far on foot, so if we take two cars – Carole, you had better drive the other one since I don't think Kurt's up to driving – and split up we should be able to find him pretty-"

"Wait," Kurt interrupted, hastily swiping at his damp eyes and cheeks. "You- We're- You'll help me find him?"

A small smile appeared on Carole's face as she gave his shoulder another comforting rub. "Of course we will; he's important to us too, you know, and we can't let him stay out there in this weather, and on Christmas Eve of all days."

Burt jingled his car keys in his hand. "Let's get going before he gets too far."

As Carole left to go grab her coat and keys and Burt laced up his shoes, Kurt stared out the window at the dark sky and the falling snow.

"I want to go on foot," he announced.

His dad looked up from knotting his laces. "What?"

Kurt didn't look away from the window. "I want to look for Blaine on foot," he repeated. "He's walking around out there somewhere. I think it'll be easier to find him if I do the same."

His dad straightened up slowly, a worried frown on his face. "I can't let you do that, kiddo, it's freezing out there."

"Blaine is out in it," Kurt pointed out simply. The reality hit him as soon as the words left his mouth. "Without a coat or anything… Oh God…" His body trembled again and he swallowed down a choked sob. Tears blurred his vision again and he missed his dad moving towards him, his face only coming into focus when he was standing right in front of him with his hands resting on his shoulders.

"Buddy, listen to me," his dad said gently. "It's going to be ok, Blaine will be ok – he's a tough kid. We'll find him and if you want to search on foot then you can." He met Kurt's eyes. "We'll find him," he promised. "Don't you worry about that."

Patting Kurt's shoulder, Burt stepped back just as Carole re-entered the room, ready to leave and carrying a coat, scarf, and gloves for Kurt, which she pressed into his arms.

"Keep in touch with us with your phone," she said as she helped Kurt fasten up his coat. "Send one of us a text every ten minutes or so letting us know where you are and how it's going – ok?"

Kurt nodded and tugged the gloves onto his hands.

Finn suddenly spoke up. "I'll keep an eye out for him here – y'know, just in case he comes back." He flushed a little when Kurt turned to look at him, but Kurt was too strained to understand the significance of what Finn was saying. "I'll call Rachel and Puck and everyone as well, ask them to keep an eye out for him," he added.

Burt nodded his approval. "Let us know if you get any news," he said before hurrying out of the room with Carole and Kurt on his heels.

The cold air bit at the exposed skin of his face and froze the tears still glistening on his cheeks as Kurt stepped outside. He shivered and tugged at the scarf around his neck until it was covering more of his neck and let out a quiet whimper at the thought of Blaine being outside in this temperature with no coat or scarf or gloves to keep him warm.

'Oh, Blaine,' he thought sadly as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat and trudged through the snow towards the cars idling in the driveway, 'why did you have to do this?'

His dad rolled down the window of the car when Kurt reached it.

"Carole's gonna head towards the centre of town and I'm gonna search the streets around here – maybe drive out of Lima for a bit." After Kurt had nodded his understanding, he shifted slightly in his seat, his hand lifting up to rest on the steering wheel as he fixed Kurt with a stern stare. "Remember to text one of us regular updates and let us know if you find him."

Kurt nodded again and started to step away from the car, eager to begin his search, but was stopped by his dad's voice calling after him.

"Kurt, be careful, ok?"

Knowing better than to comment on this, Kurt just nodded for the third time. "I will."

As his dad wound his window back up, Kurt hurried down the driveway. Once the taillights from their cars had disappeared from sight, he sniffed and started to make his way down the street.

Though the falling snow meant that it was well below freezing and that Blaine was no doubt hunched over and shivering somewhere, the weather did have a major advantage: Blaine had left a trail of footprints from the door of the house all the way down the street, and because none of their neighbours had decided to venture outside, they were the only scars in the blanket of snow on the sidewalk. Kurt followed Blaine's exact route all the way down the street, along another short street, and onto a major road where his search abruptly became more difficult as several other sets of footprints zigzagged across the pavement.

Hiccupping, Kurt took the first right turn off onto a quieter road, thinking Blaine wouldn't be comfortable out on a busier street. The snow gathered on the folds of his scarf and settled on his shoulders as he strode down the street and onto another winding one. He passed house after house, filled with families enjoying the evening in their warm living rooms. Yet here he was, out in the cold looking for a runaway.

Keeping his word, he shot off a quick text to his dad every ten minutes or so, letting them know approximately where he was and that he hadn't found Blaine yet. Each time he got a reply back stating that neither his dad nor Carole had seen Blaine.

With each of these texts his panic increased and his pace quickened. The thought of Blaine simply disappearing forever plagued his mind.

Kurt didn't know how long he walked for – it felt like hours – but he never lost hope. Even as his feet turned numb inside his boots, his nose and cheeks grew painful with the cold, and the occasional tear that still trickled down his face almost burned against his freezing skin, he kept walking and searching, moving away from the bright lights and slippery sidewalks of the main roads and sticking to the quieter, dimly-lit streets where the snow laid thick and almost untouched upon the pavement.

His feet eventually carried him into a small park. He carved deep trenches in the snow as he made his way across, following a line of trees without any particular destination in mind; he was just walking.

He was mildly surprised when the line of trees broke and the ground sloped gently down to the edge of a small frozen pond. He came to a halt; the pond had wooden benches placed on opposite banks at the top of the slope, and one of those benches wasn't empty. A small figure was seated at the end of the furthest one, hunched over and staring down at the pond's icy edges. Kurt's heart stumbled over a beat.

Suddenly, he was moving swiftly towards the bench, his gaze never straying from the small, dark-haired figure. The snow muffled the sound of his approach and the figure only looked up when Kurt was a few yards away. Relief shot through Kurt's body in a sharp pulse.

"Blaine," he said softly.

For a second they stared at each other through a curtain of gently falling snow, and then Kurt broke into a run.

* * *

The fresh air was doing Blaine a lot of good. Maybe it was because he hadn't been outside in so long, but it was really helping to clear his head and organise his thoughts. It had just been so hard to be around Kurt's family these last couple of weeks, and he'd thought about leaving once or twice before, regardless of the fact he had nowhere else to go.

Shivering, he hunched over and tucked his fists into his armpits, trying to keep them warm. He wished he had put on something warmer than the single sweater he was wearing, but he hadn't had any time, he'd needed to get out of the house immediately. He was glad it had been Kurt and his family that bought the empty old house, because most other people would have thrown him out on the streets and he probably would have frozen to death in this weather.

A rush of guilt flooded him at the thought; they'd been extraordinarily generous and kind to allow him to continue living in their _home_, and he had a wonderful boyfriend who loved him, and yet he'd avoided them and then left without telling anyone. He felt like an ungrateful little brat. There were other homeless people who would give anything to have what he did, and here he was throwing it all away. He had never felt so guilty in all of his life.

Frustrated, he kicked at a small mound of snow in front of him, sending a spray of white powder down the sloping ground. Just as it landed he heard the sound of footsteps and looked up curiously, his body tensing in preparation to run. His heart fluttered and he immediately relaxed again when he recognized the boy now hurrying towards him.

"What are you doing?" Kurt demanded. "It's freezing out here!" There was a touch of anger mixed in with the relief in his voice. He skidded to a stop in front of Blaine, breathing a little heavier than normal as he shoved the phone in his hand into his pocket and then rested his hands on his hips. There was snow in his immaculately styled chestnut hair, some of it melting and causing locks to escape and flop down over his forehead, his snow-speckled scarf was hanging askew, and his cheeks were pink with the cold – he was so beautiful, and Blaine still couldn't believe this was his boyfriend.

Kurt's sudden and unexpected appearance, coupled with his own guilt, had Blaine staring speechlessly up at Kurt, his mind blank.

"Have you been here all this time?" Kurt asked after a few seconds of silence.

A gust of wind blew flurries of snowflakes in their direction and Blaine shivered violently, the goosebumps that had risen along his arms and legs prickling. Kurt's face creased with concern and he sat down next to Blaine, yanking off his gloves and unwinding the scarf from around his neck.

"Here," he said, pressing his gloves into Blaine's numb hands and wrapping the thick scarf around his neck.

Still shivering uncontrollably, Blaine began to protest. "Kurt, I-"

"No," Kurt told him firmly, sliding closer until their bodies were pressed together and beginning to fumble with the buttons on his coat. "I'm fine without the gloves, so put them on. You're frozen."

Knowing better than to argue, Blaine tugged the gloves on, wiggling his fingers inside of them gratefully; they were still warm from Kurt's hands. The scarf was the same, and it was soft against his cheeks and smelled like Kurt; he buried his red nose into the folds of it with a small smile. He turned back to Kurt to thank him just as his boyfriend put an arm around his shoulders and wrapped his coat around him as he pulled Blaine against his side. Unable to resist the heat radiating off Kurt's body, Blaine burrowed further into the circle of Kurt's arms and rested his head on his chest, feeling his body slowly starting to warm up as Kurt's arms tightened around him.

"How long have you been here?" Kurt asked quietly when Blaine's shivers started to die down.

Playing with the loose fabric of Kurt's sweater by his ribs, Blaine lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "About half an hour, maybe." He didn't look up from where his fingers were twisting a small fold of Kurt's sweater, but he felt his boyfriend nod.

There was a minute or two of a silence. Blaine found it extremely peaceful, curled into his boyfriend's deliciously warm side as they listened to the almost-sound of the snow falling. He felt Kurt fidget a bit just before he broke the silence.

"What- Why did you come here?" he asked tentatively.

Holding back a sigh, Blaine let go of the sweater and instead let his hand rest against Kurt's waist. He knew Kurt would want to know why, but he didn't want to explain it now. He wanted to enjoy the peace, the softly falling snow, the warmth, the closeness for a little longer.

"I needed to clear my head," Blaine told him eventually.

A beat of silence followed this, until Kurt said quietly, "I was looking for you. I was worried."

A fresh pang of guilt had Blaine nibbling on the inside of his lower lip; he hadn't meant to make Kurt worry.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, unconsciously plucking at Kurt's sweater again.

Kurt pressed a lingering kiss to the top of his head and Blaine's eyes closed. "It's ok," Kurt said. "I know you had your reasons for doing it."

Nuzzling his cheek against Kurt's chest, Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt's waist. "This past week was just really hard for me and I- I needed a break," he tried to explain.

Kurt tucked his coat tighter around Blaine. "I knew this time of year would be difficult for you."

"It's not just because it's Christmas. It's living with your family, it's Finn, it's our relationship…"

'You,' Blaine added in his head, not wanting to admit how he still worried that Kurt would leave him for someone much better, someone who Kurt _should_ be with. He deserved so much more.

Kurt exhaled softly, his breath leaving him in a smoky cloud. "I talked to Finn, told him what I thought of him, but he's taking his sweet time in apologizing to you. As for the rest, everything should get easier with time. And I know it must be really hard for you, but I'll do my best to help." He placed two fingers under Blaine's chin and gently tipped his head up until Blaine met his gaze. "I know you need time to yourself, but please don't shut me out. Come _talk_ to me if something is bothering you, ok?" At Blaine's small smile, he bent down and swiftly pecked his lips. "Good."

Blaine stared up at his boyfriend for a moment, watching the snow settle on his hair and shoulders. "I just forget sometimes that I have someone like you," he admitted quietly.

"Well, I'll be there to listen whenever you need to talk," Kurt told him. He hesitated a moment, and then added, "What was it about us that you needed to clear your head about?"

He looked worried and Blaine hastened to reassure him. "It's nothing bad," he promised. "I'm not re-thinking being with you or anything like that. It's just- It's just so new to me, not just the dating thing, but having someone who loves me. I haven't had that in years; if my parents loved me they never showed it."

Kurt just held him tighter and dipped his head to kiss Blaine's forehead. Blaine didn't expect Kurt to have anything to say – he'd said it all before. Kurt was only seventeen and he couldn't be expected to have all the answers to his problems or to know exactly how to help him all the time. Most of his issues were way beyond something that anyone but a professional psychiatrist could help him with, and even then it would take them weeks to help and they probably wouldn't be able to ever completely get rid of his insecurities or fears.

"You're outside," Kurt said after another moment of silence.

Blaine lifted his head off Kurt's chest and stared up at him, a little perplexed by Kurt's comment.

"You've left the house, you came out here all by yourself," Kurt elaborated.

Blinking, Blaine watched the corners of Kurt's mouth lift into a warm smile. "I left the house," he repeated in a slightly awestruck tone. He looked away to take in his surroundings, seeing the snowy park with its small pond in a whole new light. "I didn't even think about it."

"You didn't need to think about it," Kurt said softly. "You were ready, so you left the house; simple as that."

Biting his bottom lip gently, Blaine felt tears well up in his eyes. "A few months ago I was terrified of coming outside. I guess I really am getting my life back."

Kurt rubbed his arm comfortingly. "You never lost it. You still had life and fight in your eyes when I first met you, even if it was only a small spark. But you'll move on from your past and put all those worries behind you some day, honey."

Blaine's heart gave a pleasant skip and a warm tingle spread through his body. "Can you call me that again?" he asked shyly.

"What? Honey?"

Blaine shifted against Kurt's side, feeling a bit nervous. "I- Yeah. No one's ever called me that before." He felt heat stain his cheeks.

Kurt lifted the hand that was tucked around Blaine's waist and pulled lightly on one of the curls hanging down over Blaine's forehead. He brushed a kiss by Blaine's eye. "You're adorable when you're bashful, honey," he said, kissing Blaine's nose, his cheek, his jaw, the corner of his mouth. Blaine felt the same warmth spill through him.

"I love you, sweetie," Kurt murmured against Blaine's mouth, before tilting his head and kissing him.

Gripping the back of Kurt's sweater, Blaine held his boyfriend close as he returned the kiss. They were pressed so close together that he felt the small vibration of Kurt's phone from where it was tucked in the pocket of his coat. He reluctantly moved back enough to allow Kurt to retrieve it, and watched as Kurt tapped at the screen so it glowed to life, lighting up his face and allowing Blaine to clearly see the way the corner of his mouth twitched as he typed out a reply.

"Everyone is wondering where we are," Kurt informed Blaine as he finished sending the text. He smiled at his boyfriend and patted his arm lightly. "If you're ready, we'd better head back."

"I'm ready," Blaine told him with a nod.

They got to their feet, Kurt pursing his lips worriedly at Blaine's lack of coat and his refusal to take the one he was wearing. He adjusted the scarf wrapped around Blaine's neck, and it took Blaine insisting that he was fine three times before Kurt was finally satisfied he wouldn't get hypothermia.

They were just about to set off across the park when Kurt's phone buzzed again and he paused to quickly read the text.

"Just Carole saying she'll make us hot drinks when we get back," he said. He stared down at the screen for a moment. "It's Christmas Day."

Brushing away a large snowflake that had landed near his eye, Blaine smiled at Kurt. "Merry Christmas, Kurt," he said softly.

Kurt's answering grin was beautiful. "Merry Christmas, Blaine." He held out his hand and Blaine took it, linking their fingers together and smiling wider when Kurt tugged him closer and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. They simply smiled at each other for another moment, their clasped hands swaying slightly in the small space between them, and then they started across the park, following the deep footprints Kurt had made earlier around the little pond and passed the line of trees towards the street.

"I want to give you your Christmas present when we get back," Kurt said as they made their way through the streets, which were now nearly empty due to the late hour.

Blaine turned his head to look at him, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He knew he should be delighted and grateful that Kurt had got him something for Christmas, but he couldn't help but feel awkward about accepting even _more_ from him on top of everything else, and guilty because he couldn't buy anything for Kurt in return. "You bought me something?"

Kurt shook his head. "Not exactly. I wanted to, but I knew how uncomfortable you'd feel if I did." He tilted his head a little to one side so he could smile sideways at Blaine. "I spent a little bit of money getting it ready for you, but it wasn't much."

Blaine thought of his own gift for Kurt currently hidden in his room and cursed his incapability of going out and spending as much money as he wanted on his boyfriend – not that the expense of the gift was important, but it would be nice to give proper presents to the people he loved.

"Isn't it a bit early?" he asked as they crossed the road, avoiding the dirty, slushy snow piled up against the curb. "Shouldn't we be waiting until morning?"

Kurt shrugged. "Probably, but it's Christmas now and I just want to give it to you while no one else is around."

Blaine hadn't thought of that. "Ok."

They didn't speak again until they were walking up the driveway. Blaine spent the entire journey worrying about his own present and wondering what Kurt was going to give him. He was nibbling on his bottom lip by the time he and Kurt came to a stop halfway up the driveway.

"Your present is in the garage," Kurt said, letting go of Blaine's hand. "I'll just, um-" He headed up the rest of the driveway, glancing briefly at the illuminated living room window before bending down and tugging the garage door open, raising it slowly in order to make as little noise as possible. He then beckoned to Blaine, who followed him into the chilly garage, looking around curiously.

Kurt had stopped by a large object covered by a white sheet and was peering somewhat anxiously down at it as he plucked at the sheet with his fingers. His nerves seemed to vanish when Blaine reached him and smiled widely at him. Blaine ran his eyes over the sheet-covered object, trying to guess what it was.

"I couldn't really think what to get you," Kurt confessed. "There were plenty of things I _wanted_ to get you, but they would have cost money and, like I said, I knew you'd be uncomfortable with that. So…" He grasped the sheet with both hands and pulled it off, revealing a gleaming upright piano. "I remembered this and how much you said you loved playing. It hasn't been touched since my mom died, so I had to pay to get it tuned, but I cleaned it up myself."

Blaine gaped speechlessly at the piano – its polished dark wood, gleaming keys, the large red bow that had been affixed to the top of it. Tears filled his eyes as he mutely stepped forward and trailed his fingers lightly over the keys, feeling their familiar sleek texture; he couldn't believe this was for _him_. He could see Kurt smiling at him out the corner of his eye as he looked over his present in awe. With a slightly trembling finger, he gently pressed down on one key, just enough so that the faintest of notes sounded from it. He gave a small sniff – it had been so long since he'd played.

Blinking away the tears blurring his vision, Blaine lifted his head to look at his boyfriend. "Kurt, I- Your-" Giving up his attempts to express how he was feeling in words, he shook his head and stepped around the piano to throw his arms around Kurt, hugging him tightly and pressing multiple kisses to his cheek, jaw, neck.

"You're welcome," Kurt laughed as he rubbed Blaine's back.

Giving Kurt a light squeeze, Blaine nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck. "Thank you. Thank you _so_ _much_," he murmured.

He felt Kurt kiss the top of his head. "We'll move it into the house tomorrow. Just promise me I'll get to hear you play it soon."

Blaine lifted his head up so he could meet Kurt's eyes. "You'll be the first to hear me play," he promised.

* * *

**A/N: **I hope you all had a great Christmas if you celebrate it! :)

Thank you once again for reading and all of the amazing reviews!

And thank you to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex!

Next chapter: Finn and Blaine talk and Christmas gifts are exchanged.


	19. Chapter 19

Carole embraced him the second he stepped foot through the front door.

"I'm so glad you're back," she told Blaine, not appearing to notice the way he stiffened for a moment when she first wrapped her arms around him. "We were so worried you'd be out there in the cold all by yourself – and on Christmas, as well!"

Another pang of guilt hit Blaine as Carole patted his shoulders before releasing him, stepping back enough to allow Kurt to close the door against the winter chill. "I just needed some air," he explained apologetically. "I'm really sorry I made you all worry and go looking for me. I should have let you know that I was going out – I was stupid. Sorry."

Carole smiled reassuringly at him and Burt gave his head a small shake. "Don't stress about it. I know none of this can be easy for you, and you'll need a bit of time away from it all on occasion." He smiled at him, and since he was standing beside Carole and Kurt was at his side, Blaine was able to return it. "Just try and let us know in the future so we don't have to send out a search party, ok?"

His tone wasn't in the slightest bit reprimanding, only requesting, but Blaine still felt that diminishing sensation of being chastised and his throat closed up, leaving him unable to speak. He nodded. Carole laid her hand lightly on his arm and Blaine looked away from Burt.

"You're freezing!" she exclaimed, looking worried as she took in the borrowed scarf and gloves he was wearing. "I can't believe you were out there without a coat on," she said with a small tut. It was such a motherly response, the kind Blaine had never really experienced before, that he had to smile. "Go into the living room and warm up – both of you." She waved her hands at them.

After quickly taking off his scarf and gloves, Blaine followed Kurt through to the cosy living room where Finn was hovering near the window, his gaze switching between the snowy world outside and the door. Blaine faltered slightly as Finn turned his gaze on him, but for the first time since their dispute the tall boy's expression wasn't hostile; it was strangely relieved.

Burt and Carole entered the room a few seconds later, Burt making a beeline for the fireplace where he picked up the iron poker and began to prod at the wood burning in the grate, while Carole sat down and peered over at Kurt and Blaine with some concern, as if waiting for one of them to suddenly fall ill from their night's escapades.

"We're fine, Carole, really," Kurt tried to assure her. "Once we've had a few minutes to warm up we'll be as good as new."

"I know, I know," she said, sitting back in her seat. "I just can't help but worry, and- well, I'm really glad you came back, Blaine."

Burt straightened up as he set the poker aside and turned away from the fire. "You had us real worried, kid," he agreed, taking a seat in his usual armchair. "You know you can come talk to any of us if something is bothering you or you just need someone to listen. I know you're not all that comfortable around me yet–" he held up his hands – "and that's fine; hopefully that will change with time, but you can talk to Carole any time you need to. Kurt doesn't have to be your only confidant; he's only a teenager, he can't help with everything."

Nodding, Blaine smiled gratefully at Burt. "Thank you. And I really am sorry about tonight, I should have spoken to one of you first – I don't know what I was thinking."

"Unless you want to end up in Kurt's bad books, I'd let him know next time," Burt warned teasingly. "You don't want to be on the receiving end of Kurt's glares, trust me; kid can pack a harder hit with a look than a punch."

Blaine laughed at that and glanced at his boyfriend, who was watching him with bright eyes and a soft, delighted smile. He shook his head at Blaine when their eyes met. "Don't say you were never warned," he quipped lightly.

Fighting with the desire to lean over and kiss Kurt's smiling mouth, Blaine looked away and flashed a quick smile at an amused Carole, who was watching the exchange. "We're all here for you, Blaine," she said when she caught his eye. "Just remember that."

"I'm here for you as well," a slightly hesitant voice spoke up from over by the windows. Everyone in the room turned to look at Finn, still standing somewhat awkwardly behind the armchair. His cheeks reddened under all of their stares, but he continued, "I- I know we didn't get off to the best of starts, but everything I said that day we met was wrong and disrespectful and I'm really, really sorry. I was- I'm really glad you came back, Blaine. I was worried you'd left for good."

Blaine could hardly believe what he was hearing. He knew Kurt had said that he'd spoken to Finn, but he hadn't expected Finn to say anything like _that_ to him. A small spark of distrust ignited inside of him and he examined Finn's expression and body language carefully, searching for any signs that he may be lying. He found none.

"I- That's ok, Finn," Blaine eventually stammered out into the silent room. He hesitated, not totally sure what exactly to say, and after a few long seconds of awkward silence, Carole jumped to her feet.

"I almost forgot, I promised you boys hot chocolate. I'll go make it right away," she announced in a loud voice, shooting her husband a look as she did so.

Kurt stood up. "I'm going to help."

"Me too," Burt declared, getting up and following his wife out of the room.

Realising he was about to be left alone with Finn, Blaine looked up at Kurt with panicked eyes, ready to grab hold of his wrist and keep him from leaving if he had to. Kurt gave him a reassuring smile as he walked round behind the couch, his hand brushing lightly across the back of Blaine's neck as he passed. Swallowing, Blaine settled into his seat and tried to relax his tense muscles as the sound of Kurt's footsteps faded.

Finn was still staring at him and Blaine kept his eyes trained on the floor, unable to help but find the gaze threatening despite the complete lack of hostility in Finn's expression. It was something ingrained in him that he hadn't quite managed to shift yet – the football players only ever looked at him for longer than a second when they were about to attack him.

There was a loud pop from the fire that made Blaine jump slightly, and then Finn spoke.

"I really am sorry," he said quietly. "About everything. Kurt was right, I wouldn't like it if I was in your position and someone treated me like that, so I shouldn't have said those things."

Swallowing nervously again, Blaine peeked at the other boy through his lashes to find that he'd lowered his gaze and was worrying the fabric of his shirtsleeve between his fingers. He looked guilty and truly sorry for his actions, but Blaine couldn't forgive him that quickly; Finn's reaction had caused him a lot of stress and pain, and just saying he was sorry wasn't quite enough for Blaine to forgive and forget. Time would also be needed, but today was a big step in the right direction.

"No, you shouldn't have," Blaine responded in a low voice. "But I can understand why you thought that way."

There was the sound of Finn shifting his weight. "I don't know what I was thinking that day, but I was wrong to imply that you were using Kurt's kindness and that you were a liar. I shouldn't have said that you should be chucked out on the streets." He sighed in frustration. "I don't want to be that type of person, but sometimes I am – I'm ignorant and quick to stereotype. I was the same way towards Kurt back before my mom and Burt started dating, and I- I _hate_ that I behave that way," he finished, sounding annoyed with himself.

Blaine didn't really know what to say. He had never expected Finn to start spilling his inner battles to him and he was at a loss for what to do. It wasn't like he could comfort Finn given their situation, but he still couldn't help but feel a bit of sympathy; the taller boy was clearly torn up about how he'd treated him and Kurt.

"How- Why did you bully Kurt?" he asked, trying to keep as much anger out of his tone as he could – the thought of _anyone_ bullying Kurt made his blood boil. "How could you do that to him?"

Finn shook his head, still staring down at the back of the armchair in front of him and looking troubled. "I don't know," he said blankly. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "My friends were all homophobic football players and Kurt was openly gay and…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "There's no real reason; no excuse."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Blaine looked passed Finn at the snow building up on the window ledge. He didn't speak; he knew if he did he'd say something that would probably result in an argument and ruin any chance of building a positive relationship with him.

"I still feel guilty about it," Finn confessed suddenly. "And I sometimes wonder why he forgave me." He paused for a moment, looking troubled. "I did change, or at least I like to think I did."

Blaine was once again lost for words. He didn't know if he should offer the other boy some reassurance, or if he should be blunt and tell him how he obviously hadn't changed that much, or if he should just remain silent and wait for Finn to say something else or for Kurt and the others to return, whichever came first.

It had always been in his nature to be supportive and kind, though, so there was only really one option for him.

"You shouldn't beat yourself up over something that was buried years ago. I know it can be hard, but if Kurt's forgiven you then you should forgive yourself. Kurt's a pretty forgiving person, but only with people who deserve it."

Finn raised his head slowly until he was looking at Blaine, his expression thoughtful. "You're right," he agreed after a moment. "It was a mistake that I've learned from and now I need to do the same thing with how I treated you." He held Blaine's gaze as he spoke, his voice determined. "I really am sorry for what I said to you. I know it must have caused you a lot of pain and I just hope we can put this behind us and start over again."

Finn moved out from behind the armchair and crossed the living room before coming to a stop in front of Blaine. He held out his hand, wearing a hopeful smile.

Taking Finn's hand and shaking it, Blaine found that his answering smile came easily and that his earlier nerves at being alone with Finn had long since vanished. "Of course we can," he replied.

Finn's smile widened and they dropped hands just as Kurt entered the room carrying a tray of mugs, followed by Carole and Burt, all of them with pleased smiles on their faces, especially Kurt. Blaine wondered if they'd been standing outside the door listening.

Finn returned to sit on the armchair he'd been standing by earlier, snagging a mug of hot chocolate off the try Kurt was just setting down on the coffee table on his way, causing Kurt to snap good-naturedly at him about manners. As he watched Carole hand a mug to Burt and Kurt shake his head at Finn, Blaine felt some of the warmth that he'd previously only experienced around Kurt fill his belly and spread through his body in a contented glow.

He accepted the mug Kurt passed him with a soft smile of thanks, and Kurt brushed his fingers over Blaine's right knee as he sat down next to him. The warm sweetness of the hot chocolate mixed with the creaminess of the melting marshmallows added to the warmth in his body and Blaine felt like part of the family for the first time. It was a bit of an odd family situation that they had, but to him it was wonderful.

Burt, Carole, and Finn laughed loudly at something one of them had just said and Kurt took the opportunity to caress Blaine's side, rubbing circles into his waist with his thumb.

It felt so right.

* * *

The thundering of feet on the stairs and Finn's voice loudly complaining about how hungry he was woke Kurt on Christmas morning. Rubbing at his eyes, he sat up and checked the time to find it was a little after ten. With a soft sigh he let himself flop back down, not really feeling tired but still not awake enough to consider getting up yet.

It had been well after one in the morning when they had all finished their hot chocolate and made their way upstairs to bed. Kurt had been so happy and light with relief that he hadn't noticed how tired he was until he'd climbed into bed and laid down. He was out the second his head touched the pillow, a smile on his face.

He had been dreading the arrival of Christmas Day because he knew it would be a difficult time for Blaine, but now that the day was actually here, he was hopeful that Blaine would actually enjoy it as much as everyone else. Even if Finn was now knocking on his door and whining at him to get up and make breakfast…

"I'm getting up," he grumbled, sitting up again and pushing the covers back. "You _really_ need to learn how to make breakfast, Finn," he called in the direction of the door.

Finn said something in response, but his reply was lost as he hurried back along the hall and pounded down the stairs.

Yawning, Kurt shuffled through to his bathroom, mentally going through the contents of the fridge and kitchen cupboards as he washed. It had been a tradition when his mother was alive to have orange crêpes for breakfast on Christmas morning – a tradition he had continued after her death – and every year he always made sure they had the ingredients to make them, but he hadn't done any of the Christmas grocery shopping this year, so he was relying on Carole having remembered to get the ingredients he'd requested.

Once he was dressed and had his hair neatly styled, he headed down to the kitchen, smiling when he found all of the necessary ingredients. He was grating the rind off an orange when Blaine joined him in the kitchen, dressed smartly in dark pants, a sweater over a button-down shirt, and an adorable bowtie that he had shyly picked out when looking at clothes online – he said he'd always loved bowties but had to stop wearing them at his old school after one of his tormentors had ripped one from his neck.

"Merry Christmas," he greeted Kurt brightly, his eyes shining in the winter sunlight streaming through the kitchen window.

After shooting a furtive glance at the doorway, Kurt set the orange aside and stepped forward to kiss Blaine. "Merry Christmas," he whispered once they'd parted.

They stood close for a moment, breathing against each other's skin and letting their fingers link together, until they heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs followed by Carole's voice calling out a warning to Finn about not rummaging through the presents stacked under the tree. They reluctantly stepped away from each other.

"Do you want any help?" Blaine asked as Kurt picked up the orange again.

Kurt ran his eyes over the bowls, utensils, and ingredients set out on the counter as he grated more orange rind. "Um…" He nudged a bowl with his elbow. "You could mix that and start adding this orange rind to it." He smiled when Blaine joined him at the counter and picked up a wooden spoon to start mixing. He liked working together like this; the domesticity of it made him feel warm inside.

Kurt was in the middle of making the first batch of crêpes while Blaine finished setting the table when Burt, Carole, and Finn entered the kitchen, wishing the pair of them a merry Christmas. They breathed in the delicious, sweet, citrus scent that filled the air and discussed how much they were looking forward to breakfast.

A few minutes later they were all sitting down to crêpes and coffee. Kurt didn't contribute much to the conversation, preferring to just listen as he absorbed the feeling of Christmas with his somewhat unusual family. Last Christmas it had just been him and his dad; this year he had his step-mom, step-brother, and his boyfriend celebrating the holiday with them.

Finn insisted on being the one to pass out the presents when they moved to the living room after breakfast. Kurt smiled when he handed the first brightly wrapped parcel to a surprised Blaine, and he watched eagerly as his boyfriend carefully opened his present with awe-filled delicate movements, the complete opposite of the frenzy of tearing paper that Kurt knew Finn would be doing soon. Tears filled Blaine's eyes when he pulled back the paper to reveal the soft, maroon sweater that Carole and Burt had gotten him (and Kurt had chosen).

Blaine smoothed a hand almost lovingly over the sweater. "Thank you so much," he breathed, lifting his teary eyes to look at Burt and Carole. "You didn't have to get me anything; you've already given me the best Christmas I could have dreamed of having."

"We just wanted to give you a little gift," Burt explained as Carole nodded in agreement. "A nice surprise for you, 'cause you deserve to get presents on Christmas, too."

Blaine bit his lip and fidgeted with the neckline of his new sweater. "I don't have anything to give you. I don't have any money to buy you both something." Blaine sounded almost ashamed of himself and Kurt shifted slightly on the couch beside him.

"Blaine, the point of giving gifts isn't to just swap an item with someone else, it's the thought and the emotions behind it that are what's important," Burt said gently. "We knew you wouldn't be able to give us something in return, but your gratitude and your appreciation is all that matters."

Swallowing, Blaine nodded and lowered his gaze to the unwrapped gift in his lap, his long lashes hiding his eyes from Kurt. "Thank you," he said again, sounding less choked-up this time, but just as sincere.

Burt smiled and nodded approvingly. "You're welcome."

More presents were opened and Blaine managed to keep his emotions under control when he opened Finn's gift of music books filled with sheet music for the piano. When the last parcel had been opened, Blaine pulled a small, tissue paper-wrapped gift from his pocket and handed it to Kurt, looking a little nervous as Kurt ran a finger over the silky red ribbon.

"It's not much," Blaine admitted, "but I hope you like it."

Under the curious gazes of his family, Kurt slowly tugged at the ribbon as his mind made a few half-hearted attempts to guess what Blaine's present could be – not that it really mattered. All that mattered was that it was his first Christmas present from his boyfriend.

None of his guesses came close to what was revealed when he set the ribbon aside and parted the tissue paper. His jaw dropped and a tiny noise of delight escaped him.

It was a brooch, a handmade brooch in the shape of a tiny bird that had been painstakingly and wonderfully created out of silver and blue coloured wire. The wire had been artfully twisted and shaped to form the little bird. Kurt turned it over in his hand, noting the tiny safety pin so it could be attached to clothing, marvelling at Blaine's skill and wondering how long it must have taken him to make it. It may not have been the most expensive brooch he owned, but it was priceless compared to his others. It was unique, beautiful, and best of all, Blaine had made it, Blaine had spent _hours _over the fiddly and delicate task of shaping the wire with Kurt on his mind as he did so.

A gush of emotion threatened to send the tears prickling in Kurt's eyes rolling down his cheeks.

"It's beautiful," he breathed, finally lifting his gaze from the tiny bird to look at Blaine. "Thank you so much."

Most of the worry in Blaine's expression cleared. "You really like it?" he asked hopefully, a hint of disbelief in his tone.

Kurt smiled affectionately at him. "I love it. I can't believe you made it!" He set the brooch aside carefully, hesitated for about a second before reaching out and pulling Blaine into a tight hug, hooking his chin over the smaller boy's shoulder and closing his eyes when he felt Blaine return the embrace. He didn't care that his family was still watching them – they had hugged in front of them before. He really just needed to thank Blaine in more than words and a smile; he needed to hold him in his arms, rub his back as he felt Blaine smile against his shoulder, and murmur another thank you in his ear.

When they reluctantly let go of each other, Kurt glanced away immediately, knowing that if he looked at Blaine any longer he wouldn't be able to stop himself from kissing him or declaring how much he loved him, and it wasn't the right time for his family to be learning about that. He distracted himself by holding up the brooch to show to his family. They immediately began to praise Blaine's craft skills. He allowed himself a peek at his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye when Blaine was describing how he made the bird out of coils of wire he found in the old crates in the attic. He could give Blaine a proper thank you later when they were alone.

After everyone had stopped admiring the bird pin, they all went across the hall to the barely-used room into which Finn had moved the piano this morning. Blaine did a great job of pretending that he hadn't already seen it, even managing to tear up again as he ran his fingers lightly over the gleaming keys like he had done the night before.

With the presents now all given out, Kurt and Blaine helped Carole in the kitchen with preparations for dinner until she shooed them away, telling them to go relax and to send Burt and Finn in to help her with the last of the preparations. When the mild, protesting grumbles from Finn faded away, Kurt suddenly realised they were finally alone.

Knowing that his family would be returning soon, Kurt wasted no time in sliding closer to Blaine on the couch and pulling him into a passionate kiss.

"Thank you so much for my present," he gasped when they parted. "I adore it."

Blaine's face lit up in an eye-crinkling smile. "Thank you for the piano."

Sighing happily, Kurt dropped his head onto Blaine's shoulder and nuzzled against his neck. "Why a bird?" he asked curiously. Feeling Blaine shift under his head, he added hastily, "There's nothing wrong with it being a bird; I was just wondering why you chose it?" He tilted his head back enough to see Blaine's face.

A smile tugged at the corner of Blaine's mouth as he tucked an arm around Kurt's waist and held him close. "Well, obviously because of your love of singing and your beautiful voice, but also because whenever I saw birds flying by the attic windows I always thought about how free they were and wished I could have that same freedom." Their eyes met and his crooked smile widened. "You gave me that freedom, Kurt. You made me as free as those birds."

Kurt didn't think it was possible for him to fall any more in love with Blaine, but as he pressed a soft kiss to the underside of Blaine's jaw followed by another one to his lips, he felt himself falling even further.

"I love you," he breathed against the corner of Blaine's mouth.

Blaine hummed in agreement as he kissed Kurt again, his lips warm and soft, tasting both sweet and slightly bitter from his crêpes-and-coffee breakfast.

After a moment, Kurt sat back, resisting the urge to lean back in and just stay that close to Blaine all the time. He could quite happily spend the rest of the day tucked into Blaine's side as they shared lazy kisses, but there was something else he really wanted to do.

"Will you play the piano for me?" he asked. "I really want to hear you play."

"Now?"

Kurt nodded, getting ready to pout if Blaine was reluctant.

Blaine sat up, smoothing out the wrinkles in his sweater. "Ok," he agreed, smiling at Kurt's expression. "I'll be a bit rusty, though," he warned.

Jumping to his feet, Kurt shrugged and took Blaine's hand to pull him along. "Doesn't matter, you'll get back into the swing of it now that you can play whenever you want."

Kurt led Blaine across the hall. Blaine dropped his hand and approached the instrument, smiling at the large bow still taped to the top of it. Like he had done last night, he trailed his fingers lightly over the keys, familiarizing himself with the feel of them under his fingers, the fond expression on his face akin to seeing an old childhood friend.

Taking a seat on a nearby armchair, Kurt quietly watched his boyfriend begin to play random chords and scales, his touch on the keys light and almost hesitant, the notes soft in the air. He gained confidence quickly, and was soon playing several bars of songs, the music filling the room and spilling out into the rest of the house. After several minutes he paused, the latest chords gradually fading into silence as Blaine examined the piano musingly.

It had been his plan to simply sit and listen to Blaine play without interrupting him at all, but Kurt was beginning to feel a few prickles of concern as Blaine continued to stare down at the piano. Just as he opened his mouth to see if Blaine was alright, however, Blaine moved, pulling out the piano bench and sitting down on it before stretching his fingers out over the keys again. He surveyed them with his head tilted for a moment, and then he began to play.

The notes were soft and gentle, but unlike those that he had played earlier; these weren't played with hesitation, but with the purpose that came with knowledge and confidence – Blaine was playing something that was obviously familiar to him. Kurt didn't recognise the tune, but it was beautiful and he found himself leaning forwards in his chair until his forearms were resting on his thighs, admiring Blaine's skill and enjoying the way the music strengthened, escalated.

The performance wasn't perfect; Blaine slipped up a few times and played a wrong note or broke rhythm, but it still made Kurt's breath catch in his throat and his heart swell.

The song ended on a low, soft note, and Blaine gazed down at the keys for a moment before turning slowly around to face Kurt, smiling shyly. "I used to play that song a lot in the year or so before I left my parent's house. I worked on it for months until I was finally happy with how it sounded."

Kurt blinked at him, snapping out of the almost sleepy trance he'd been in. "Wait, you _wrote_ that?"

"I used to tinker around on the piano a lot," Blaine replied with a nod of affirmation.

Kurt simply stared at him, wondering what other remarkable talents his boyfriend was hiding. "Well, tinker away. That was incredible."

Blaine ducked his head bashfully as a pleased smile and light blush appeared on his face. "Thanks." He stretched out a hand and slid a finger absently over the keys. "I've been thinking about how I left the house last night…"

Startled by the sudden change in topic, Kurt straightened up in his chair. When Blaine looked over at him with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he nodded in encouragement for him to continue.

"I don't want to go back to staying indoors all the time, not when I have no problem with going outside anymore," Blaine continued.

Shifting in his chair, Kurt watched Blaine's face as the other boy gave him a small smile. "So, you're saying…"

"I want to do normal stuff again. Go out for coffee, join you on your marathon shopping trips at the mall – just be a normal teenager." He twisted further round on the bench until he was fully facing Kurt. "I want to try and join you in school next term and I think- I think I'm about ready to do that."

A wide smile spread across Kurt's face. "That's great, Blaine! And I'll help you do that. I'll help you with anything you want to achieve."

The smile on Blaine's face turned coy as a teasing twinkle appeared in his eyes. "You can help by going out for coffee with me."

"Blaine Anderson, are you asking me out on a date?" Kurt asked, struggling to keep a straight face as a smile twitched his lips.

Blaine stood up and crossed the room until he was standing in front of Kurt. "I'm asking you out on a date," he confirmed, before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to Kurt's lips.

* * *

**A/N: **Happy New Year! I hope 2013 will be a great year for all of you :)

So, Finn and Blaine have worked things out, Kurt and Blaine are adorable, and Blaine feels like part of the family; everything is good - too good... ;)

Thank you for reading and for all of the reviews - they make my day!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter: A date, a relapse, and Burt knows more than he has been letting on.


	20. Chapter 20

Going on his first date was a lot less nerve-wracking and awkward than Blaine thought it would be. He had always imagined self-consciously picking out an outfit to wear and feeling nervous for the whole day, waiting for his date to arrive with sweaty palms and a pounding heart. Never did he imagine he would skip all of the hesitant glances and awkward smiles and already be in love with the boy he was going on his first date with. Never did he imagine that his first date would be with someone like Kurt.

Kurt claimed that the Lima Bean was the best coffee shop in Lima and although there was a risk of running into someone he knew from school there, he said he would rather that happen than have to drink crappy coffee. So they went, a few days after Christmas, and Blaine was thrilled at finally going on a date with his boyfriend, a feeling which only heightened when Kurt scanned the customers in the café and declared that he couldn't see anyone he recognised.

"You're still a bit jumpy," Kurt observed as they waited in the long line at the counter.

Blaine, who had just started slightly when a woman entering the coffee shop behind them called out a loud greeting to someone sitting at a table nearby, inhaled deeply, trying to relax; apparently, crowds still unsettled him.

"I just need a few minutes to get used to being in a public place again," Blaine replied. They shuffled forward another foot towards the counter. "I've spent most of the last year actively avoiding busy places, so I just need…time."

Kurt nodded in understanding. "Of course." He paused for a moment as they inched closer to the counter. "So, do you know what you want?" he asked brightly with a nod at the menu boards displayed on the wall ahead of them.

Glad that Kurt had steered the topic of conversation away from his emotional issues – he didn't want to spend their date dwelling on it – Blaine scanned the boards, suddenly realising just how long it had been since he'd last had a café-style coffee. "Umm…" He fiddled with the ends of his scarf as he ran his eyes down the list of drinks again. "What are you getting?" he asked a little lamely when nothing jumped out at him.

"A non-fat mocha," Kurt replied immediately. "But you don't have to get the same thing as me," he added, scanning the boards himself.

As Blaine continued to stare indecisively at the boards, Kurt turned to study him critically, as if he could learn Blaine's order just by looking at him. "Their lattes are pretty good," Kurt began slowly, "but you tend to take your coffee black in the mornings, so maybe something a bit stronger…" He trailed off and frowned back at the boards, his head tilted contemplatively to one side.

Blaine waited quietly for Kurt's verdict, being reminded strangely of the time his father had tried to pick out a sports team for him to join at school. He'd sat Blaine down and listed all the skills and attributes needed for each, dismissing most of them due to one of his many supposed flaws: too short, not enough muscle, too weak – always too weak…

He swallowed as Kurt turned to face him once again with a smile. "I think you should get either a latte or a drip coffee," he shrugged. "But get whatever you want; the coffee is actually all decent here, believe it or not." He bumped Blaine's hip gently with his own and Blaine smiled at him. He didn't really care about what drink he got. All that mattered was that he was here with Kurt.

They eventually reached the counter. The barista who asked for their order looked strained as she smiled tightly at them, her eyes drifting to the long queue of people behind them.

Kurt flashed her a quick smile. "I'll have a grande non-fat mocha, please, and he'll take a-" He looked at Blaine to finish the sentence.

"A medium latte, please," Blaine told her. He'd decided it would be best if he didn't have anything too strong in case it worsened his nerves. He shifted guiltily as Kurt handed over the money to pay for the drinks and biscotti; he wished he could afford to buy Kurt gifts and take him out for dinner and coffee. He lowered his gaze to the little bird pin on Kurt's coat and smiled in spite of himself; it was a pleasant surprise when he'd come downstairs wearing the brooch. Blaine had been right: the silver and blue combination looked good with his boyfriend's eyes.

They found a table in a relatively quiet corner of the bustling coffee shop, and as they sat down Kurt jealously eyed the bulging shopping bags from the post-Christmas sales that a couple of women at a nearby table had sitting by their feet, making Blaine smile and roll his eyes fondly.

"I heard you playing the piano last night," Kurt said as he loosened the scarf around his neck. "You sounded incredible. I wish I could play an instrument like that."

Blaine shot Kurt a look of mock outrage. "You were eavesdropping on my private playing session?" He shook his head. "Has nobody ever told you that is rude?"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt gently kicked at Blaine's leg under the table. "Shut up. I gave you that piano so that entitles me to listen to you play it whenever I want."

"We'll see about that," Blaine quipped with a grin. He eyed his coffee contemplatively, trying to decide whether or not it was worth risking burning his tongue to have a sip now or if he should wait a few minutes for it to cool down. "It's nice being able to play whenever I want again. When I lived with my parents I never got to practice as much as I wanted because my dad didn't approve of how much interest I took in the piano."

Kurt gave a small twitch at the mention of Blaine's parents and Blaine hastily changed the subject, not wanting their first date to be spent talking about his past or his parents.

"Those music books are really good." He picked up his coffee and began gently swirling it around inside the cup. "I'm guessing you picked them out and gave them to Finn," he added.

Kurt nodded. "I'd hoped things would have worked out between you two by Christmas." He took a sip of his coffee and took Blaine in. "I picked out that sweater for you as well," he added, nodding to Blaine's chest. "I chose well, the colour looks good on you."

Smiling shyly, Blaine dropped his gaze down to his coffee as a blush heated up his cheeks. Kurt brushed their ankles together under the table and Blaine glanced up to see his boyfriend smiling affectionately at him.

From thereon in it was perfect. The lingering nerves that had still been fluttering around in Blaine's stomach disappeared and he was completely at ease and happy – so very happy. He managed to forget about his past and pretend he was just a normal teenage boy out on a date with his boyfriend – his _gorgeous_ boyfriend.

He watched as Kurt broke a piece off of the biscotti they were sharing, admiring the way his lashes fanned against his cheeks and how soft and thick his hair looked. He smiled at the light freckles dusting Kurt's nose and cheeks, the smile widening when Kurt wrinkled his nose at the crumbs he'd gotten on his jeans.

Kurt noticed him staring and paused in the middle of brushing them off. "What?" he asked cautiously. "Have I got something on my face?" He wiped a hand around his mouth.

Blaine just shook his head fondly. "I am so in love with you."

Kurt stopped brushing at the non-existent food on his face and smiled softly at him. "I love you, too."

One of the women at the next table frowned at them as she gathered up her many shopping bags, clearly having overheard. Kurt noticed her disapproving look and rolled his eyes, before swallowing the last of his coffee. "Want to head home?" he asked, ignoring the woman as she said something to her friend and they both glared scornfully at Kurt and Blaine.

"Sure," Blaine nodded. He raised his voice slightly so that it could be heard above the myriad of conversations and the whirring of the coffee machine and added pointedly, "We'll have privacy there." He watched the two women out the corner of his eye as they muttered something else to each other before stalking out of the coffee shop.

Kurt rolled his eyes again and began gathering up his scarf and coat. "Idiots," he muttered darkly.

Blaine finished winding the red scarf he'd borrowed from Kurt around his neck and waited patiently as Kurt buttoned up his coat. Kurt smiled at him when he reached his side and they began to head towards the fogged-up glass doors.

"I like that scarf on you," he revealed, tugging gently on the end of it.

Blaine grinned. "I'll have to start wearing your clothes more often then." He pushed open the door, shivering at the sudden blast of icy air that greeted him, and waving Kurt out ahead of him.

Kurt waited as he held the door for a small group of shivering people hurrying gratefully into the warmth of the coffee shop. He moved close to Blaine so their arms were brushing. "Oh, honey, you're far too short for most of my clothes," he said teasingly.

Nudging Kurt's shoulder with his own, Blaine started down the sidewalk in the direction of the small parking lot where they'd left Kurt's car, accidentally bumping into a tall man as he did so.

"Sorry," he apologised immediately, sparing a brief glance at the man.

The man stopped and brushed down the sleeve of his coat, looking Blaine up and down with something close to anger. "Watch where you're going, you little twerp," he snarled.

Blaine stumbled back a step in shock, but Kurt stood his ground, his expression hardening. "No need to be so rude," he bristled. "He apologised."

The man's dull brown eyes flicked to Kurt and his mouth twisted into an ugly expression as he took in Kurt's appearance. The look on his face made Blaine shudder and want to step in front of his boyfriend to hide him from view. He hovered close to Kurt's side, watching the man's sneer warily.

"Has nobody ever taught you fags to look where you're going?" the man asked, folding his arms over his chest and holding himself taller as he narrowed his eyes at them.

Blaine swallowed, his heartbeat starting to accelerate. He took in the man's imposing stature and tried not to let his nerves show. Placing a hand on Kurt's arm, he turned to walk away, wanting to leave before the situation escalated. "I'm sorry I bumped into you," he apologised again, speaking as calmly as he could. "Let's go, Kurt," he added in a whisper.

Kurt glared at the man for a second or two longer, before obeying and following Blaine as he started down the street again.

"Hey!" an angry voice shouted after them. "I wasn't done talking to you two."

Blaine and Kurt quickened their pace slightly, keeping their eyes fixed determinedly ahead of them despite Blaine's urge to see what the man was doing.

"Hey!" the man shouted again. There was the sound of running footsteps and then the man was in front of them again, blocking their way to the parking lot. Blaine felt panic rising inside him as he frantically looked around to see if there was anyone nearby who might be able to help them if things got worse.

"I knew you fags didn't have any morals, but I didn't realise you didn't have manners either," the man sneered in disgust. He took a heavy step towards them, coming within hitting distance, and Blaine's heart began to throw itself wildly against his ribcage. "But I probably should have known that," he continued. "If your kind had any manners then you would know how wrong it is for you to prance about in public with other men. Nobody wants to see that filth." His face screwed up like he'd just tasted something unpleasant.

Trembling, Blaine pressed closer to Kurt's side, trying to draw support from him as his chest tightened and his breathing turned fast and shallow.

The man scowled at them. "It's about time someone taught you fairies a lesson."

A cold sweat broke out on Blaine's back and face and he began to shake uncontrollably as a sudden, vivid memory filled his head – standing near the back stairwell at school, trapped by four older boys in letterman jackets. One of them – the biggest of the group – had taken a step closer to him as he clenched his fists threateningly, his knuckles bulging. Blaine had stumbled backwards, clutching at the strap of his satchel and trying to avoid getting too close to the edge of the stairs.

"It's time someone taught you a lesson," the jock boy announced as his friends jeered in encouragement.

Blaine's sweaty hand had slipped on the strap of his satchel as he staggered further away from the advancing bullies, his lower back colliding hard with the edge of the banister. He'd winced as pain flared across his already bruised back…

Fighting the memory, Blaine tried to stop the wild panic rising rapidly inside him as Kurt said something in reply. Blaine couldn't hear it; the world was starting to spin around him in a dizzying blur as he struggled to get air into his lungs. A phantom flash of pain burned across his lower back.

There was raucous laughter as the group of teenage boys continued to taunt him and Blaine just wished he could go back to when he was a little boy, to when nobody labelled him and the word gay wasn't even thought of around him. Back to when everything was simpler and his parents actually seemed to love him…

"-maybe then you'll start behaving like a man," the man spat in unison with the boys from his memory. The world continued to spin around Blaine as he gasped for air. It felt like his lungs were working but there still wasn't enough air entering them. His panic mounted.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice sounded distorted, as though he was speaking to him from underwater. A hand was placed on his shoulder, one which he would have thrown off had the weight not felt so comforting even in his dizzy, disorientated state.

Something else was shouted, but Blaine only heard a roar of noise above the frantic gasping. The hand on his shoulder tightened its grip and a pressure was placed on his back until he stumbled blindly forward.

Kurt's voice murmuring words he couldn't really hear in a soothing voice. The warm touch guiding him along the street, and then off to the left. The familiar clicking sound of Kurt's car doors being unlocked, and then opened. Hands guiding him forward to sit down in the car.

"Deep breaths, Blaine, come on," Kurt encouraged calmly. His hand rubbed at Blaine's thigh. "Breathe in…"

Blaine latched onto the instruction like it was a lifeline. He sucked in as deep a breath as he could manage.

"…and breathe out," Kurt continued, exhaling along with Blaine.

He could still hear their voices in his head and see the faint outlines of them crowding him at the top of the stairs, but it was all blurry and indistinct; Kurt's voice and the sight of his blue eyes were much clearer. He inhaled along with Kurt again and the world around him started to come back.

"Breathe out…"

The trembling in Blaine's limbs lessened and the taunting voices of his memory faded back into the deep recesses of his mind. Another deep breath later and the remaining outline of the stairwell disappeared. Now that his panic was dulling he could feel the tears clinging to his face, the cold sweat on his skin, the tension in his muscles; he forced them to relax.

Kurt rubbed at his thigh again. "Keep breathing, baby."

Blaine nodded and sucked in another deep breath. "Kurt…"

"Shh, it's ok," Kurt shushed him, reaching up to gently wipe the tears from his face.

"I'm sor-"

Kurt kissed Blaine's cheek and then the tip of his nose. "It's ok, Blaine." He tilted his head so their foreheads rested together. "It's ok," he repeated in a whisper.

Letting his eyes fall shut and breathing in Kurt's comforting scent, Blaine blindly reached for his hand and linked their fingers together, feeling the last of the fear leaving him as his breathing and heart rate settled back into their normal rhythms.

He didn't know how long they sat there with their hands clasped and their eyes closed, but it was a while later when Kurt shifted against him.

"Do you want to go home now?" he murmured.

Blaine opened his eyes to find Kurt watching him. When their eyes met Kurt pressed a soft kiss to Blaine's lips. Blaine nodded and Kurt moved back, reaching behind him to open the car's back door and climbing out into the cold.

Once they had both transferred into the front seats, Kurt began driving them home, his eyes flicking in Blaine's direction every now and then. Blaine watched the shops and houses flash passed the window. "What happened to that guy?" he asked.

"He freaked out when he saw you struggling to breathe and took off."

"Panic attack," Blaine clarified. "It was a small panic attack. I was remembering some bullies taunting me at school."

They stopped at a red light and Kurt took the opportunity to look over at him. His lips parted like he was about to say something, but then he changed his mind and took his hand off the steering wheel to smooth it across the back of Blaine's neck, sliding his fingers up into the thick, dark curls and scratching lightly at the scalp. Blaine hummed softly in appreciation and Kurt moved his hand higher, massaging soothingly, until the light turned green and he was forced to withdraw.

"Have you ever had a panic attack before?" Kurt asked a minute or so later.

Blaine shook his head. "No, that was the first one. Eric had one once, though, and told me about it."

"It looked like a panic attack to me," Kurt agreed as he braked and steered the car into the driveway. When the engine was off and silence surrounded them, he turned in his seat to face Blaine. The shorter boy met his gaze hesitantly, twisting his hands in his lap. Kurt's expression was worried and conflicted, and then he raised a hand and brushed a few stray curls back from where they'd been falling into Blaine's eyes. "You need a haircut," he declared.

Blaine tugged ruefully at a lock. "A year ago I would have never dared to let my hair get this long – I used to slick it back with gel, you know?" he reminisced with a soft huff of laughter as he remembered how important it was to him to meticulously style his hair each morning.

"You used to-" Kurt blinked at him in surprise. He shook his head, a stunned smile on his face. "I don't think I want to know how much product you had to dump in your hair to slick it down." He cocked his head slightly to one side, like a curious bird. "I can't picture you with anything but the curls," he added musingly.

Blaine gave another small laugh. "It made me look about twelve years old, especially with the way I dressed."

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a knock on the window behind Blaine's head. They both started and Blaine spun round to find Burt peering at them through the lightly misted glass. He raised an eyebrow at them when, after a bit of fumbling around, the window was lowered.

"There a reason you boys are sittin' out here?"

Blaine shook his head just as Kurt spoke up behind him. "No, we were just- We're just coming inside."

Burt eyed them for a few seconds longer, something in his gaze making Blaine flush lightly, and then he nodded and stepped back from the car. "Don't stay out here too much longer; it's cold out." He walked off down the driveway with the bag of trash he was carrying and Kurt and Blaine clambered out the car.

Blaine could feel Burt's eyes on them as they entered the house. He wondered if he knew that they were more than friends, but quickly dismissed the thought – how could he possibly know? He and Kurt had been very careful not to show too much affection when they were in the company of others; they only ever kissed or held hands when they were positive they were alone. And if Burt _did_ know, surely he would have spoken to them about it.

* * *

Kurt couldn't stop picturing Blaine's panic-stricken face. It had been like something out of a nightmare, his own worry and fear replaced with sheer terror and helplessness when he'd glanced over at Blaine. He thanked whatever instinct or rush of adrenaline that had enabled him to remain calm enough to help his boyfriend.

His hand automatically smoothed over Blaine's forehead again, stroking the too-long curls back from his face. They were lying on Kurt's bed, Kurt with his back against the pillows, Blaine with his head resting in Kurt's lap and his legs tucked up close to his body. Blaine was breathing softly and evenly against Kurt's legs, eyes closed, creating a small warm patch, while Kurt frowned down at his boyfriend's peaceful face, his mind clinging to the memory of his panic attack less than two hours ago.

It was the look in Blaine's eyes that had been the worst. The beautiful, golden irises had been dulled by fear, begging him to help him breathe. Kurt slid the hand that wasn't smoothing Blaine's hair back up to rest on the smaller boy's ribcage, where he could feel every inhale and exhale he made.

"I'm ok, you know," Blaine spoke up suddenly. Kurt started, and the small jerk of his hand against Blaine's ribs made him crack his eyes open to blink up at him sleepily.

Kurt breathed out slowly and rubbed his thumb against Blaine's side. "I know you are now, but I just-" He broke off and trailed his fingers slowly through Blaine's hair again, watching the way locks of it curled around his fingers.

"You just worry," Blaine finished for him. He rolled onto his back so he was able to look Kurt directly in the eye. "What happened today was just a one-off. It was my first encounter with someone like that in almost a year, so it was bound to bring up old memories, and since I was also out in public for the first time in months I reacted more strongly than I normally would have."

Kurt traced the length of one of Blaine's cheekbones with his finger, still seeing the terrified eyes set in a pale, strained face.

"I'm ok," Blaine insisted again, giving Kurt an easy smile before closing his eyes again and rubbing his cheek against Kurt's leg.

Nibbling absently on the inside of his bottom lip, Kurt continued to study his boyfriend's familiar features, his gaze lingering on the long eyelashes fanned against his cheek, the slightly chapped pink lips, and the few freckles on his nose and cheeks only visible at this close a distance. So beautiful and vulnerable.

He was starting to see what Carole had been saying on Christmas Eve when she told him there was only so much he could do to help. He was out of his depth. He had only _just_ been able to help Blaine get through his panic attack, but he had no idea of how to help him now. No matter how often Blaine insisted that he was ok, Kurt knew he wasn't, and he was out of ideas of what could help.

Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to Blaine's forehead, followed by another to the tip of his nose, below his left eye, the corner of his mouth… He loved this boy so much, but he just couldn't be the only one to help him anymore. He wasn't going to let Blaine say he was fine while all his pain continued to fester inside him; that would only make things worse in the future.

"You're still worrying," Blaine noted without opening his eyes.

Sighing, Kurt smoothed out a wrinkle in the shoulder of Blaine's shirt. "I just wish I could be of more help," he despaired. "You've been through so much that you need to work through and I just can't help with all of it. I'm in way over my head here." He looked helplessly up at the ceiling, as if all the answer might be printed up there. "I'm lost."

Opening his eyes, Blaine sat up and faced Kurt. "You're not lost," he insisted rather fiercely. "You've helped me so much."

"That's the problem: I _have_ helped you, but I can't anymore; not as much as you need." Kurt lowered his gaze away from Blaine's pleading face. Blaine could try and convince him that he didn't need any more help, but it wouldn't work; he knew that Blaine was struggling with his past more than he was letting on.

Seeing that Kurt wasn't backing down, Blaine shrugged. "I guess I could try talking to Carole or maybe even your dad," he suggested, his eyes focused on where he was tracing circles on Kurt's thigh with his index finger.

"I- Maybe," Kurt agreed quietly. When Blaine didn't respond, Kurt cupped his jaw and tilted his head up so their eyes met. "Hey," he said softly, "I just want you to be happy."

"I am-"

Kurt cut him off by placing a finger to his lips. "You could be happier. You're not truly happy yet – today and Christmas Eve are proof of that."

Blaine opened his mouth, and then closed it again, his resignation to the truth clear in his eyes. Sliding his hand round to cup the back of Blaine's neck, Kurt leant forward and gave him a tender kiss.

"I love you," he stated when they parted. He nosed at Blaine's face and jaw until a smile appeared on his boyfriend's face.

"Love you, too," Blaine replied, moving in for another kiss. "And thank you," he added after he sat back. "You're probably right. It's for the best that I talk to someone else about everything."

Carole called them down for lunch a few minutes later, and after the meal was over and everything was cleared away, Blaine wandered off to go play the piano. Kurt, instead of going with him to listen as he usually did, remained in the kitchen with his dad on the pretence of wanting to look up some recipes for the remainder of the Christmas leftovers. He flicked through the pages, occasionally pausing to examine a recipe with mild interest, before he turned the page, keeping most of his attention on his father as he wondered how to broach the topic of the day's events with him.

Burt was sitting across the table from him, looking through some mail. When Kurt's gaze began to drift, thoughts still on Blaine, he caught his dad watching him thoughtfully. Blinking, Kurt returned his attention to the open book in front of him.

"You're in love with Blaine, aren't you?" Burt said casually a minute or so later.

Kurt's head shot up. A blush bloomed on his cheeks as he gaped at his father in flustered surprise. "Wh- What? How did- What?" he spluttered.

Burt calmly folded up the bill that was lying open on the table in front of him and placed it back into its envelope. "I see the way you look at him and the way you behave around each other – you'd have to be blind not to see it. I've noticed it since the day I met Blaine."

Flustered and slightly panicked, Kurt stammered incoherently for a moment while his face burned with a blush that told his dad everything that he wasn't. After about a minute of spluttering his way through a few weak denials, Kurt sighed and admitted defeat.

"Yes, I'm in love with Blaine." He hesitated, his blush somehow managing to deepen, and then decided to tell the whole truth – it had been a secret for too long. "We've been together since before he left the attic."

He braced himself for his dad to get mad, but the lecture never came. Instead, his dad nodded. "I know," he stated calmly.

Kurt blinked at him in shock. "You- You know?" His dad continued to stare at him with an unreadable expression and Kurt nervously fidgeted with the corners of a few pages of the recipe book, flicking them between his fingers and causing tiny creases to appear. "Are you mad?" he asked tentatively after a long stretch of silence.

Burt shook his head and relief caused most of the tension to drain out of Kurt's muscles. "No," he sighed, adjusting the cap on his head. "But I wish you'd stop hiding things like this from me, buddy."

Biting his lip, Kurt lowered his gaze to his lap, feeling ashamed. He hadn't wanted to keep it a secret, but he thought that would be the best thing for Blaine. He should have realised his dad would discover the truth for himself.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I should have told you everything from the start."

Burt nodded. "You should have."

There was an uncomfortable pause during which Kurt squirmed under his dad's gaze.

"Is there anything else about Blaine I should know?"

Kurt shifted again. There was no anger in his father's tone, not even any disappointment, but there was an undercurrent of disapproval at how Kurt had handled the situation with Blaine. "There isn't," he swore, finally looking up at his dad again. He hesitated before adding, "Except, well…This isn't something I've been keeping secret – it only happened this morning – and well, it's not-" He cut off his own stammering and got to the point. "Blaine had a panic attack when we were out at the Lima Bean earlier."

Burt's frown disappeared, replaced with a concerned look. "A panic attack? Is he ok? What happened?"

Kurt swallowed thickly. "He accidentally bumped into some homophobic jerk while we were walking back to the car. He started to yell at us, and Blaine had a flashback to being harassed at school and he- he-" Kurt choked on the tears that sprung up at the memory. "H- He could barely breathe, and- and he looked so terrified and I was so scared…" He trailed off when his breath caught in his throat.

His dad's hand covered his, giving it a small squeeze and rubbing it comfortingly. "You helped him through it?" He was stating a fact, not asking a question.

Kurt nodded, too choked up to speak.

"And he's alright now?" When Kurt nodded again, Burt patted his hand. "And what happened to the asshole who was harassin' you?"

"He ran off when he saw that Blaine wasn't breathing," Kurt sniffed.

Burt started to say something else, something about how he was sick of the way some people treated gay people, but Kurt barely heard him, he was remembering the conversation he'd had with Blaine before lunch.

"I think Blaine needs someone else to talk to," he blurted out suddenly, interrupting his dad mid-speech. "Someone who knows exactly what to say to him and who can help him. I just- I'm not enough anymore. I don't have the knowledge or experience."

Removing his hand from atop Kurt's and rubbing at his chin thoughtfully, Burt nodded. "You think he should see a therapist or something?"

Kurt hesitated. "I haven't suggested it to him yet and I don't know if he'd be up for it. He's still a bit nervous around strangers."

Burt was silent for a moment, his eyes thoughtful. "How was he at the coffee shop today? Before the panic attack?"

"A little jumpy when we first arrived, but after that he was fine…" Kurt smiled at the memory.

Nodding again, Burt began sweeping the mail into a neat stack. "Talk to him about seeing a specialist. I think speaking to a professional would do him a lot of good." He got to his feet and headed for the doorway. "Oh, and Kurt?"

Turning in his chair, Kurt faced his father. "I'm happy for you," he said sincerely. "I'm glad you and Blaine found each other."

With a warm smile at his surprised son, Burt left the room.

* * *

**A/N: **Nobody could miss the heart eyes Kurt and Blaine give each other, especially not Burt.

So, it's looking like this story may end up being around 25/26 chapters long plus the possibility of an epilogue on top of that. I'll see how things are going towards the end of the story and decide on an epilogue from there. And then I'll be starting my next story which I'm really excited about :)

Thanks for reading and for all of your wonderful reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex! You should all go read her stuff, it's amazing.

Next chapter: Kurt suggests to Blaine that he sees a therapist and Blaine reminds Kurt that he's still keeping a big secret from his family.


	21. Chapter 21

Blaine agreed to see a therapist much more easily than Kurt expected. He thought he'd have to persuade him, but Blaine, although still a little nervous, seemed determined to get the help he needed.

"I want to do this," he'd said firmly. "I want to be able to move on and I don't want to have another panic attack."

Kurt had reached out to brush his thumb over his boyfriend's jaw soothingly, withdrawing quickly at the sound of footsteps before he remembered that their relationship was no longer a secret. Feeling a thrill at the thought, he'd raised his hand to Blaine's face again, cupping his jaw and smoothing his thumb along his cheekbone. Blaine tensed, until he too remembered, and then he relaxed and leaned into Kurt's touch, eyes closed in a way that had Kurt smiling fondly.

"Carole knows a therapist, and she says she's very good and has experience with similar situations to yours, so you'll be in good hands," Kurt had told him.

Blaine had nodded and nuzzled into the palm of Kurt's hand. "I trust you," he'd murmured. "All of you."

Kurt had frozen and stared down at his boyfriend. "Even- Even my dad?" he asked hopefully.

Blaine had taken a moment to answer and Kurt felt the hopeful bubble inside of him shrink a little; it hadn't been that long ago Blaine had admitted to still being wary around Burt.

Blaine opened his eyes and looked up at him. "I do – or at least, I'm almost there." He'd smiled softly when Kurt reached for his hand and squeezed it.

"I'm glad," Kurt had said in a voice full of emotion. He bent down to kiss Blaine. "And I know my dad will be pleased as well."

Blaine's smile had widened and he'd reached up to cup the back of Kurt's head, sliding his fingers into the soft hair there, to pull him down for another kiss, this one deeper and lingering. The hopeful bubble inside of Kurt had swelled with happiness.

Now there was just the actual meeting with the therapist for Kurt to worry about.

He was sitting in the living room with a copy of _Vogue_ spread open on his lap while Blaine and Finn played some war-themed video game. Normally he would immediately vacate the room when Finn reached for the console, but when Finn had – only slightly hesitantly – asked Blaine if he wanted to play with him, Kurt had decided to stay. Even though Finn had been nothing but friendly towards Blaine since the pair had talked on Christmas Eve, and despite Blaine assuring Kurt that he held no anxiety or resentment towards Finn, Kurt still wanted to make sure things remained that way, especially after Blaine's panic attack.

A slew of bangs issued from the TV along with shouts from both Finn and Blaine. Kurt pretended to be engrossed in his magazine, but instead watched Blaine as he mashed buttons on his controller and scrunched up his face adorably at the screen.

"Watch that dude to your right!" Finn shouted suddenly. "Don't-" He broke off to stare intently at the screen as he frantically pressed buttons.

Kurt rolled his eyes at Finn's groan of despair and looked away to check the clock on the mantelpiece – Carole would be home soon. He absently scanned an article in his magazine as he listened to Blaine and Finn complain about characters in their game.

Carole had promised to talk to the therapist she knew about Blaine today to see if she was able to meet with him. He wanted Blaine to see one as soon as possible, preferably before the new semester was due to start. For Blaine to fulfil his wish of returning to school and graduating, he'd need to start attending classes as soon as possible.

The sound of a car engine had Kurt's gaze shooting up from his magazine, only for him to lower it again when he saw it was only one of the neighbours. Flicking a couple of pages, he smiled as he watched Blaine's tongue peep out of the corner of his mouth in his concentration. A curl fell over his eyes and Kurt eyed his boyfriend's hair critically, making a mental note to get him a cut; it was far too long.

He was still watching Blaine when he heard the sound of a car and spotted Carole pulling into the driveway. Tossing his magazine aside, he jumped to his feet.

Blaine and Finn both looked round at the sudden movement.

"Dude, are you still here?" Finn exclaimed in surprise.

Ignoring him, Kurt stared out the living room window as Carole got out of the car. Blaine followed his gaze and seemed to understand immediately, joining Kurt in his silent, anxious wait for news.

Finn glanced between them, clearly having forgotten all about it. "What are you-?" He fell silent when Carole walked past the window on her way to the front door and Blaine shuffled closer to Kurt. He took in their tense faces and the way Kurt laced his fingers with Blaine's. "Oh."

The three of them stood staring in silence at the living room doorway as they heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by footsteps in the hall.

"Boys?" she called out.

Finn announced their location and Kurt gripped Blaine's hand tighter when Carole drew closer. She smiled when she greeted them, but that didn't relax Kurt any – Carole always smiled.

Thankfully, she cut right to the chase.

"I spoke with the therapist I told you about today," she informed them as she set her bag down on the floor. Blaine nodded and Kurt inhaled shakily. Finn awkwardly cleared his throat and turned away to switch off his game console. "I explained everything that I know, Blaine," Carole continued, "and she said she'll be able to start seeing you straight away."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Kurt loosened his death-grip on Blaine's hand. He smiled gratefully at Carole before glancing to his boyfriend. He must have been masking it earlier as he played video games with Finn, because now it was clear that Blaine wanted to see a professional just as badly as Kurt wanted him to.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Hummel," Blaine said sincerely.

Carole reached out and patted his arm. "You're welcome, dear – and call me Carole." She bent and picked up her bag. "I'll be able to take you tomorrow, if that's ok?" she added.

Blaine nodded, and Carole smiled again before leaving the room.

Kurt turned to beam at his boyfriend. "This is great," he said, swinging their joined hands slightly. "If it goes well you might be able to start the new school term with me."

Blaine returned his smile, but Kurt caught the fleeting flash of nerves in his hazel eyes. "Yeah," Blaine agreed in a small voice, "that would be awesome."

Kurt stepped closer to him and kissed first his forehead and then his mouth. "You can do it," he whispered encouragingly. "I believe in you." He brushed another kiss across Blaine's cheek and Blaine squeezed his hand in response.

He repeated the encouragement. "I can do it."

Kurt grinned at him until Blaine's face fell as he was struck by a sudden thought.

"How are Burt and Carole paying for this? Therapists are expensive."

Kurt hesitated before replying; he had – rather childishly – hoped that Blaine wouldn't think about this as he knew his boyfriend wouldn't like to know how much his dad and Carole were paying for him to talk to someone who could help him.

"Well," Kurt began reluctantly, "Carole is friends with the therapist so she gets a discount because of that and because the therapist normally works with people in situations similar to yours she keeps her fees as low as possible to make her services affordable to as many people as possible."

Blaine sighed. "They're still paying a lot of money for me to see her."

An idea suddenly popped into Kurt's head, one so perfect that his mouth curved up into a wide smile and he almost started bouncing on the spot in his excitement.

"If it's money you're worried about, why not get a job and pay my dad and Carole some of it back?"

"Kurt, I can't get a job in my sit-"

Kurt shook his head at his boyfriend. "Not like a work-in-a-supermarket type job, but one where you play for tips." At Blaine's look of incomprehension, he elaborated, "You are incredible on the piano – you play beautifully, you're amazing at sight-reading, _and_ you write your own music – so why not play the piano for tips somewhere? I've been in a couple of restaurants that have people who do that in them. With your level of talent you're bound to make a decent amount."

Blaine didn't look completely convinced. "I don't know, Kurt, would I really make that much? And there can't be that many restaurants around here looking for someone to play piano in them."

"There might be," Kurt said, shrugging. "We won't know until we look." He squeezed Blaine's hand. "Just think about it, ok? You don't have to worry about anything like that until you've been to see this therapist."

Kurt kept a close eye on Blaine for the rest of the day, assuming his nerves would get worse the closer his meeting with the therapist got. Other than spending more time playing the piano, though, Blaine showed no signs of worry. Still, knowing that Blaine was good at hiding his true emotions left Kurt feeling anxious.

It was this that spurred him to suggest they watch a movie in his bedroom for the rest of the evening. He let the shorter boy pick out the movie – some superhero movie of Finn's – and they sat together on Kurt's bed against some propped-up pillows. Kurt paid very little attention to the film; he focused instead on carding his fingers slowly and soothingly through Blaine's hair. Blaine hummed appreciatively and, after a little while, he slid deeper into the pillows and let his head rest on Kurt's shoulder.

As the movie progressed and Blaine snuggled closer until his head was pillowed on Kurt's chest and his arm was looped around his waist, Kurt felt his eyelids grow heavy and a pleasant drowsiness settled over him from the warmth of Blaine's body, the lulling rhythm of his boyfriend's soft breathing, and the dim lighting. The hand threading through Blaine's hair slowed and after a few weak attempts to keep his eyes open, Kurt let them fall shut, his hand stilling completely as his head dipped forward, his cheek resting against Blaine's curls.

The sounds of the movie became fainter and the sound of Blaine's breathing seemed to increase as he drifted. He vaguely registered a soft, mumbling sound coming from Blaine as the other boy nuzzled against his chest, but before he could begin to process what this meant, sleep pulled him under.

Over breakfast the next morning Carole made an announcement that caused Kurt to drop his spoon in disbelief – she would be the one to accompany Blaine to his meeting and it was best if nobody else came.

"B- But you can't just expect me to stay here," Kurt stammered. "I have to go, too."

Carole smiled apologetically at him over the top of her coffee mug. "I'm afraid not. It's for the best."

"How?" Kurt demanded, starting to get angry. He shoved his cereal bowl away from him so he could rest his forearms on the table, leaning forward. "How is it better for Blaine if I stay here? _I'm _the one whose been helping him all this time! _I'm_ the one closest to him!"

Under the table, Blaine placed a hand on his thigh and rubbed it in an attempt to calm him down.

Carole set her coffee aside. "And that's exactly why you shouldn't come. You can't always be the only one at his side. You can't be the only person he relies on and trusts," she explained calmly. She turned her attention to Blaine. "Blaine, you need to learn to open up to others. Not just Kurt."

Kurt looked sideways at his boyfriend to see his reaction to all of this. Blaine looked nervous and Kurt saw the movement of his throat as he swallowed before nodding.

"I- I'm sorry, Kurt, but I think Carole is right. I can't keep running to you all the time; I know it's affecting you more than you're letting on."

Kurt sighed as he let his hands slide off the table into his lap in resignation. He could see Carole's point and he knew it was all for the best, but he still wished he could be there for him. He could feel the sulky pout on his face as he finished breakfast in a moody silence, but he tried to wipe it away as he stood by the front door with Blaine as he got ready to leave.

"I think you're more worried about this than I am," Blaine observed, letting Kurt knot his scarf around his neck.

Kurt smoothed the shoulders of Blaine's coat. "Just don't worry too much when you get there, ok?" He kissed the tip of Blaine's nose. "You can do this. I believe in you."

Blaine moved in closer for a kiss and Kurt cupped his cheek, his other hand sliding up Blaine's back and holding him close. Blaine deepened the kiss and leaned into Kurt's hand.

"I love you," Kurt murmured when they parted.

As footsteps approached, Blaine darted forwards and kissed Kurt deeply again. "Don't worry about me too much," he said quietly when Carole reached them.

"If you're ready, we'd better be going," she said, taking out her car keys and pulling open the front door to a blast of cold air. "See you when we get back," she added over her shoulder to Kurt as she headed outside to the car.

Kurt brushed back a few stray curls that had fallen over Blaine's face. "I'll be waiting to hear about it when you get back."

Blaine brushed a chaste kiss across Kurt's cheek. "I'll see you later." He smiled at Kurt one last time before stepping outside, pulling the door closed behind him.

Kurt stood in the hallway until the sound of Carole's car faded and then he moved through to the living room to sit on the couch with a clear view of the clock to wait. He didn't even attempt to try and distract himself; he just sat and stared unseeingly ahead, occasionally coming out of his trance long enough to glance at the clock or out the window. Blaine had told him not to worry, but he couldn't help himself – his imagination was running wild with all of the possibilities.

He shot another glance at the clock; Carole and Blaine had been gone for well over an hour now. Kurt didn't know what was worse: waiting here or sitting with Carole at the office. Both had their pros and cons, but at least if he was actually there he would be able to see Blaine the moment he stepped out of the room.

Unconsciously nibbling on a fingernail, Kurt thought of everything Blaine had shared with him and how hard it had been for him to talk about the first time round. He knew how easily Blaine closed himself off. Kurt drew his legs up to his chest, rested his chin on them, and fixed his gaze on the clock as he waited, and waited…

Another hour passed before the sound of an approaching vehicle made Kurt lift his head to look out the window. He shot to his feet when he spotted Carole's car.

Sprinting into the hallway, he waited anxiously for Blaine to walk through the front door. He rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet as he listened to the sounds of the car pulling up in the driveway, Carole and Blaine stepping out, and then walking up to the front door. Kurt rocked himself forward again as the door opened.

Blaine smiled in greeting when he spotted Kurt. He made a beeline for him while Kurt checked for any visible signs of stress or anxiety. He found none.

"How did it go?" he asked, smoothing his hands across Blaine's shoulders and down his arms.

"Great," Blaine said with conviction. "I mean, I was scared at first, but she didn't pressure me and we moved at my pace…" Blaine met Kurt's eyes and captured the hand that was hovering near his waist with his own. "It really helped – talking to her about everything. She gave me advice on how to cope with things and she made me realise a lot."

Kurt squeezed his hand and felt the last of his tension and worry leave him. "That's so good to hear. I want you to get the help you need, Blaine. Are you going to see her again?"

Blaine nodded. "In a few days. I'll see her twice a week until I feel comfortable enough to reduce it down to weekly."

Kurt leant closer and kissed him. "I'm so proud of you for doing all of this," he whispered. "I know it can't be easy."

Blaine nuzzled his nose against Kurt's. "It isn't," he agreed. "But I really want to do this."

Kurt kissed him again – once, twice, three times – before saying, "Not wanting to sound like I'm trying to pressure you or anything, but do you think you'll be ready to attend school when classes start back up?"

"I'm going to try my hardest to make sure I will be," Blaine assured him.

Kurt smiled and pressed a trail of tender kisses from his cheekbone down to his lips. "And I have every faith you can do it."

* * *

Blaine's therapist agreed he could return to school if he felt he was ready for it. He was actually looking forward to going back. Plus, it would be good to interact with people his own age other than Kurt, Finn, and Rachel. His sessions were doing more than just giving him the confidence to return to school; he had opened up more with Burt and Carole, and as a result, he no longer felt that he was imposing on their lives by staying with them. He no longer stuck to Kurt's side whenever Burt was in the room and was able to have a conversation with him without sweaty hands, a racing pulse, or a tremble in his voice.

His new acceptance of Burt gave Kurt's dad the chance to do something he'd probably wanted to do for a while: give Kurt and Blaine a set of dating rules to follow. They weren't allowed to be in either of their bedrooms with the door closed, they were to keep their behaviour appropriate at all times while in the house, and they were forbidden from sneaking into the other's bedroom at night. He'd said this last rule with a knowing look at the pair of them, as though he knew that they had shared a bed in the past.

Kurt had grumbled a bit about these restrictions when they were alone later, but Blaine had no complaints; it could have been a lot worse. At least he was still allowed to stay with them and be with Kurt.

Between his meetings with his therapist, preparing for his first day back at school, helping with chores around the house, and going on another date with Kurt – this time to see a movie – Blaine forgot all about Kurt's promise to tell his family about his bullying until the afternoon before the new term began. It was only when he remembered this that he realised he'd soon have his chance to do what he'd wanted to do since the first time he found out about Kurt's bullying – stand up for him.

"Kurt?" he began tentatively as he watched Kurt pick out an outfit for him to wear to school tomorrow.

Kurt hummed to show that he was listening as he held a shirt against a pair of jeans and eyed it critically.

"Are you- Have you thought about talking to your dad and Carole about the bullying?"

Kurt froze in the midst of hanging the shirt back up and Blaine fidgeted as he waited for his boyfriend to respond. A few seconds ticked by. Then Kurt hung the shirt up and slowly turned to face Blaine. He looked pale as he nibbled gently on his bottom lip. "I said I would tell them before school went back, didn't I?" He set the pair of jeans he was holding down on the bed next to where Blaine was sitting. Before Blaine could say anything, he spoke again.

"I should tell them today. I'm sick of hiding things from them – my dad especially." He sighed and joined Blaine on the bed, folding his legs under him as he sat down. He looked young.

"Hey." Blaine placed a hand under Kurt's chin and gently tipped the other boy's head up until he was looking at him. "I said I would be with you when you told them and I stand by that." He slid his hand up to cup Kurt's face.

"Thank you," Kurt whispered, turning his head and pressing a kiss into Blaine's palm.

Blaine heard the faint sound of an engine followed by the rumbling of the garage door opening – Burt was home. Kurt stiffened against him, before straightening up and setting his jaw determinedly. He clambered off the bed and Blaine stood with him, holding out his hand. Kurt took it with a grateful smile. Blaine laced their fingers together, giving Kurt's hand a squeeze, before leading the way out of his bedroom.

They followed the sound of Carole and Burt's voices to the kitchen. They both looked up when Kurt and Blaine entered the room, their conversation dying when they saw their expressions. Carole set down the knife she had been using to slice tomatoes, a look of concern immediately appearing on her face. "Is everything alright?"

Kurt swallowed and exchanged a quick look with Blaine, who smiled and gave his hand another reassuring squeeze.

"I have something to tell you both," Kurt announced, his hold on Blaine's hand tightening. "Something I should have told you a while ago."

Carole's concerned frown deepened, but Burt's expression held more of a wary curiosity. "What is it, bud?" he asked lightly.

"I-"

Blaine smoothed his thumb over Kurt's knuckles. He heard Kurt take a steadying breath.

"I- I'm still being bullied at school," he admitted quietly. "It- And it's gotten worse."

Burt's narrowed eyes widened and Carole looked horrified. She opened her mouth to say something, but Burt beat her to it.

"How much worse?" he asked coolly.

Kurt bit his lip. "Quite a bit. They shove me into lockers all the time now and on the last day before Christmas break they- they threw me into a dumpster and I got some pretty bad bruises."

"He had a long cut on his ribs, some smaller scrapes on his back, and lots of bruising," Blaine informed them, anger and pain filling him at the memory. "It was bad."

"Before Christmas," Burt repeated.

Nobody said anything to this and Blaine shifted nervously on the spot. "Who's _'they'_?" Burt asked.

"Mostly a group of football players – Karofsky and his friends," Kurt replied.

Burt nodded, his jaw clenching and his eyes hardening. "Karofsky was the one giving you a hard time before, wasn't he?"

It wasn't really a question, but Kurt nodded anyway.

"And he's still at it? Even after we talked to Figgins about it?" Burt's anger was building with each passing second and his hands had balled into fists at his side.

Kurt was watching his dad worriedly, his expression strained as he took a step closer to him. Blaine suddenly remembered something Kurt had told him back when he'd still been living in the attic – Burt had suffered a heart attack last year.

"Dad," Kurt said anxiously. "Please, calm down. Your heart…"

"I will not calm down, Kurt," Burt said loudly. "That school of yours _knows_ its students are being harassed and nobody's doing a thing about it!"

Carole said something to him in low, soothing tones, obviously worrying about his health as well, but all it seemed to do was make Burt realise something else.

"Where was Finn when all of this was happening?" he demanded.

Blaine shifted his weight between his feet. The raised voices were making him want to flinch away.

"He stopped it happening when he saw it, but most of the time they only harassed me when I was alone or when they knew nobody around would help me," Kurt explained hastily. Burt's expression hardened and Kurt added, "Finn couldn't follow me around all day just in case they went for me and we don't share a lot of classes, so our paths don't cross much."

Burt nodded and adjusted the cap he was wearing. "I know, I know," he said in a less aggressive voice. "I'm just pissed off that everyone at that school lets you be treated that way." He sighed in frustration and there was a short moment of silence that had Blaine fidgeting and nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip, before Carole spoke.

"How about we go down to the school tomorrow to see the principal and demand that some action be taken to stop this?" she suggested mildly.

Burt nodded in agreement. "We'll do that, and we're not leaving until I'm fully convinced he'll do something about it and Kurt can be safe."

Carole patted Burt's shoulder and made a noise of approval. "Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes," she added over her shoulder to Kurt and Blaine as she turned back to the salad she was making.

Surprised that nobody pointed out that Kurt had kept it a secret, Blaine allowed Kurt to tug him from the room. He guessed it had been forgotten in the anger and shock of the news.

Kurt led him upstairs and back into his own bedroom, where several articles of clothing were still lying on the bed. Kurt took one look at them before tugging Blaine to the empty end and sitting down.

Neither of them said anything at first. Kurt rested his head on Blaine's shoulder and Blaine slid an arm around his waist, holding him close.

"They took it a bit better than I thought they would," Kurt said quietly. "I mean, who knows what will happen tomorrow after they speak to Figgins. But at least I didn't have to talk about it too much." He sighed softly, his breath warming Blaine's neck. "That's the worst part: talking about it, reliving it all over again."

Blaine lifted a hand and ran his fingers through Kurt's hair, smoothing his thumb over Kurt's forehead. Kurt's eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. "It is hard," he agreed softly. "But if you don't tell people everything that happened, nobody will realise how serious it is or be able to help you." He lightly kissed each of Kurt's closed eyelids. "You just have to be brave."

"I'll never be as brave as you," Kurt mumbled into Blaine's neck, his lips brushing the skin as he spoke. Just as Blaine was about to reply, Kurt added, "You don't have to worry about school tomorrow. You'll be fine and I'll be there with you." He paused as a small yawn escaped him, causing his nose to crinkle adorably. "Everyone will love you."

"Even if I wear that pink bowtie?" Blaine asked with a grin, his eyes on the clothes lying on the other end of the bed.

Kurt smiled and opened his eyes to look up at him. "_Especially _if you wear that pink bowtie – though it makes you look about twelve."

Blaine laughed and kissed the top of Kurt's head. Kurt was right – he shouldn't be worrying about tomorrow. He was more than ready to go back to classes again, and with Kurt there with him, what was there to be nervous about? A small voice piped up in his head, helpfully reminding him about Karofsky and the rest of the meatheads bullying Kurt. He set his jaw determinedly. If he ran into any of those homophobic jocks he wouldn't cower away like he had done in the past. He would stand his ground and make sure they never insulted or laid a hand on Kurt ever again.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry this chapter is a little later than a week since the last one was posted, but I'm on exams just now and spending nearly all my time studying :( Good news is that I only have one exam left and then I have a week and a half off before classes start again, so I'll have plenty of writing time then.

Thanks to Nightingale63 for the idea of Blaine playing the piano for tips!

As always, thanks for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter: Blaine's first day at McKinley and a discussion about the future.


	22. Chapter 22

He didn't know if he should wear the bowtie.

Blaine frowned at his reflection and tugged at the dark red bowtie he'd only just finished adjusting, untying it and pulling it free of the collar of his shirt. It was too much for his first day back at school; he would draw too much attention to himself, make himself a target…

Exhaling deeply through his nose, he began to relive his first Christmas with his boyfriend, letting the memories fill his mind and push away the negative thoughts and older memories from his first high school, just like his therapist had taught him. When he felt calm again he returned his attention to the mirror and his outfit. He smoothed the bowtie between his fingers, conflicted. He wanted to wear it; he thought it looked good with his ensemble. He didn't want to wear it; it was over-the-top and he wasn't Kurt, he didn't have the confidence to pull it off.

There was a knock at the door just as he let out another sigh.

"Come in," he called out, not shifting his gaze from his own reflection. He saw Kurt enter the room behind him over his shoulder.

"Morning," he greeted him brightly. "Are you almost ready? Breakfast is out." He pressed a kiss to Blaine's cheek when he reached his side. When Blaine did nothing but hum indecisively and pluck at the bowtie in his hands, Kurt frowned. "Wardrobe problems?"

Blaine glanced at him briefly. "I can't decide whether to wear this bowtie or not," he explained. He shook his head at his own behaviour. "I'm being ridiculous. I'm just projecting my nerves about today onto my outfit now."

Smiling, Kurt reached over and took the bowtie from him. "I thought you said you wouldn't get nervous?" There was a teasing undertone to his words. He slipped the bowtie under the collar of Blaine's shirt.

"I know. I know. It's just silly last-minute jitters," Blaine said, watching the Kurt in the mirror step closer as he tied the bowtie around his neck. He could feel Kurt's breath on the back of his head, the warmth of his body, his fingers brushing his skin as he adjusted the bowtie, sending tiny shivers racing through his body.

Kurt's hands came to rest on his shoulders. He dipped his head and kissed Blaine's neck softly. "Wear the bowtie," he breathed. He mouthed at the skin beneath Blaine's ear.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Blaine tipped his head back, his eyes fluttering closed as Kurt continued to kiss his neck and jaw – gently sucking on the skin, smoothing it with his tongue, pressing quick, dry kisses to the underside of his jaw, taking his earlobe gently between his teeth…

A soft moan escaped Blaine without his consent and he felt a warm blush stain his cheeks. Kurt, however, was spurred on by the sound and his kisses became open-mouthed and contained more teeth and tongue. His chest was pressed against Blaine's back and Blaine could feel each of his heavy, gasping breaths. He tipped his head back further and was rewarded with Kurt's mouth on his, kissing him with fervour, their lips sliding together and Kurt's tongue darting out to trace the line of Blaine's bottom lip.

Kurt's breath, warm and gasping, ghosted over Blaine's parted lips, the intimacy of the sensation sending pleasant shivers through him. He raised his head until he captured Kurt's upper lip between his own lips, sucking it into his mouth, and causing Kurt to clutch tightly at his hips with a desperate groan.

"Guys, we're gonna be late!"

Their lips parted with a smacking sound as Kurt jerked his head up to stare, panicked, at the mercifully still-closed door. Blaine straightened up and smoothed out his shirt somewhat guiltily as if they had actually been caught by Finn and not just interrupted.

The sound of shuffling footsteps reached Blaine's ears. "Guys?" Finn called again.

Kurt cleared his throat. "We'll be down in a minute," he shouted.

"Well, hurry up! If I'm late again I'll get a detention."

As Finn shuffled away again, Kurt stepped out from behind Blaine to check his hair and clothes in the mirror. "Trust Finn and school to ruin our fun," he grumbled. He gave Blaine a flirty smile in the mirror that had Blaine's already racing pulse leaping.

While Kurt tugged at the bottom of his waistcoat and tweaked the tips of his coiffed hair, Blaine examined his own reflection – kiss-swollen lips, flushed cheeks, darkened eyes, a neck spotted with a few red marks. He traced a finger over one of them, rather liking how it had been created by Kurt's mouth. Kurt made a soft apologetic sound.

"Sorry, I didn't think; you're going to be starting school with hickeys all over your neck." There was a small smirk on his lips, though.

Blaine tugged the collar of his shirt higher to hide one of the larger marks. "You're not sorry," he retorted, kissing Kurt's cheek and stepping away from the mirror to grab his school satchel.

Kurt just laughed lightly and took Blaine's hand, leading the way out of the room and down to the kitchen for breakfast.

After they'd eaten there was a scramble for everyone to get ready to leave and then a few minutes later Blaine was sitting in the car with Kurt and Finn on his way to school for the first time in almost a year. Kurt had let Finn drive and was sitting in the back seat with Blaine, holding his hand and occasionally giving it a supportive squeeze. Blaine stared out the window the entire ride. He was more determined than nervous now and was even a little bit excited. He kept picturing scenarios in his head of sitting next to Kurt in class, holding his hand under the table at lunch, and chatting with him by his locker before they were joined by Rachel and the rest of Kurt's friends whom Blaine hadn't put faces to yet. Admittedly, these situations were a bit _too _perfect and he knew attending McKinley wouldn't really be like that, but he could try to make it as close to idealistic as possible.

Idealistic started to slip the moment Finn steered the car into the school's parking lot. A small group of smoking girls glared at the car as it passed them, and as they neared the main building Blaine spotted a group of jocks in their letterman jackets laughing at a younger boy scurrying up the steps and into the school. He tightened his grip on Kurt's hand.

Once Finn had parked and the three of them were standing by the car with their hands tucked into the pockets of their coats to protect them from the biting wind, Kurt told Finn that he and Blaine would meet Burt and Carole in the principal's office, and Finn promised to let them know when they arrived.

A hand was placed on Blaine's back and he snapped out of the trance he was in, staring at that group of boys by the doors and stumbled forwards. Kurt removed his hand as soon as he started walking and Blaine was painfully reminded of how they couldn't be too affectionate towards each other while at school.

"I'll take you to the receptionist where you'll get your timetable and stuff," Kurt explained as they crossed the parking lot, walking further apart than they usually would. The distance between them felt alien to Blaine. "They want you to see Miss Pillsbury after that, don't they?"

Blaine blinked. "Miss Pillsbury?" he repeated in confusion.

"Oh, sorry, you wouldn't know. She's the guidance counsellor," Kurt explained. "And the closest the school has to a therapist."

The frown on Blaine's face smoothed out. "Oh, right. Yeah, I have to see her."

They neared the main doors and Blaine watched the group of jocks nervously out the corner of his eye, just waiting for them to say something. When they reached the steps and the boys continued to talk amongst themselves, ignoring him and Kurt completely, Blaine relaxed, wondering darkly if one of them was the Karofsky guy who harassed Kurt. He assumed not, because surely Kurt would have mentioned it if he was.

When he entered the school, Blaine was hit with the feeling of familiarity. He'd obviously never been here before, but there was a strong resemblance to his old school – the plastic floors, the stale air, the banks of dull metal lockers, the buzzing of dozens of voices from the people filling the corridors. Blaine stuck close behind Kurt as his boyfriend wound his way through chattering students, most of whom didn't have the courtesy to move out of the way to let them passed – something else familiar to Blaine from his old school, the feeling of being invisible. He was grateful for that feeling today, though; better that than the 'new kid stares.'

Kurt was muttering darkly under his breath by the time they reached the principal's office. He gave Blaine a tight smile.

"Welcome to McKinley: where everyone is manner-less and disrespectful to you unless you're wearing a letterman jacket or cheerleading uniform."

Blaine lifted his shoulders in a small shrug, still clutching his satchel in front of him like a shield as he stood stiffly at Kurt's side. "I'm used to it. My old school was exactly the same."

Kurt just looked at him for a moment, before turning towards the receptionist. The woman behind the desk folded her paper, looking annoyed at the interruption, and set it to one side before peering up at them with an eyebrow raised, clearly waiting for them to explain their purpose for being there.

"This is Blaine Anderson, it's his first day here," Kurt told her, lifting a hand to indicate Blaine.

The woman flicked her bored gaze to him. "Anderson?" she repeated. "Right, we have your stuff here." She swivelled round in her chair slightly to sift through some files and papers lying in an untidy pile on a nearby desk.

Kurt shot Blaine an encouraging smile as they waited.

"Here you go." The receptionist pushed some papers towards Blaine. "Your timetable is on top, there's a note from the guidance counsellor, and some forms you and your parent or guardian need to sign. Your enrolment was sorted a few days ago by a-" she squinted at the page in front of her "-Mr. Hummel, but there's still a few last bits of paperwork to complete."

Blaine took the pages with a slightly trembling hand and flicked through them quickly, pausing on a form asking for a parent's signature.

Kurt understood what he was thinking. "Can we give the forms back to you later?" he asked the receptionist. "My dad will need to sign them and he's meeting the principal just now."

At his words, Blaine's head shot up. The receptionist merely shrugged. "Whatever," she said, already reaching for her newspaper.

Kurt turned away from her, rolling his eyes and stretching out a hand towards the papers in Blaine's hands. "Let me see your-"

"Your dad will sign my forms?" Blaine interrupted him quietly.

Kurt's reaching hand froze. "Of course he will; he's your guardian, isn't he?"

Blaine lowered his eyes back to the form. "I guess he is. I've just never really thought of it that way before."

Kurt smiled softly at him. "You're part of the family now, Blaine." His expression changed as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Except not in the same way as Finn, because that would just be weird with us dating."

Blaine chuckled lightly and handed Kurt his timetable. "You wanted to look at this?"

"Oh, yes." Kurt grabbed the timetable out of his hands and scanned the columns with a furrowed brow. Blaine watched him with mounting anticipation – he hoped he had some classes with Kurt.

Kurt's forehead smoothed out. "Good," he said, giving Blaine his timetable back. "They did what I asked and put you in the same period as me for all the classes we share."

"You asked them to do that?"

A bell rang and Kurt set off down the hall, Blaine scurrying along after him. "I told them it was the best thing for you given your situation – which it is, but I also just wanted to see you," Kurt explained with a grin.

Blaine jumped behind Kurt when a girl hurrying past them almost knocked him over with the large file she was carrying in her hands. All around them the halls were steadily emptying as people headed into their first class of the day. Fewer people meant that he was more noticeable, and Blaine found himself the subject of many a curious stare as he followed Kurt passed a row of lockers and around a corner to the guidance counsellor's office.

Another bell rang.

"I have to go to this meeting with Figgins now," Kurt apologised. He glanced briefly over his shoulder at the office behind him. "But this is Miss Pillsbury's office – I'm guessing she just wants to help you with starting school again." He shrugged. "We have second period class together, so I'll meet you here when I've finished with Figgins, ok?"

Blaine smiled and nodded, glad he wouldn't be facing his first class at McKinley alone.

Kurt returned his smile. "Good." Something behind his eyes shifted and he cast a quick look around them, before moving closer and brushing a swift but sweet kiss on Blaine's cheek. "See you later," he said softly.

Blaine watched him walk down the corridor until he rounded the corner at the end and disappeared from view. Hitching his satchel strap more securely onto his shoulder and taking a deep, settling breath, he stepped up to the guidance counsellor's open door and knocked on it.

A young, doe-eyed woman was sitting behind a neat desk inside the small room. She had been scrubbing at a pen with a small cloth, but looked up at the sound of his knock, smiling widely and setting the pen and cloth carefully down on her desk.

"You must be Blaine Anderson," she said, getting to her feet. "I'm Miss Pillsbury and I'm the guidance counsellor here at McKinley." Her voice was quite soft and almost nervous sounding. She smiled encouragingly at him and gestured to the chair pulled up in front of her desk. Blaine sat down gingerly on the edge of it, glancing around curiously at how impeccably ordered everything was.

"I read the file that your therapist sent over and I'm very impressed with your determination to come back to school and move on with your life," she said, opening the slim file sitting in front of her and flicking through the pages. "I don't think many other people in a similar situation to yours would be able to do what you're doing."

Blaine lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. He didn't think he was particularly strong or brave. If it wasn't for Kurt he would still be hiding in an attic and if it wasn't for Burt and Carole he'd be shivering on the streets somewhere.

"Kurt and his family helped me a lot," he told her. "I wouldn't be sitting here if it wasn't for them."

She nodded, her eyes wide. "Of course, I'm sure their help and support has been invaluable." She looked down at his file again. "Your therapist mentioned how grateful you are for Kurt."

That didn't really begin to cover what Kurt meant to him or how much he had to thank Kurt for, but Blaine couldn't really disagree with the statement. "He rescued me and gave me hope again," he said, feeling his throat tighten with emotion.

Blinking rapidly, Miss Pillsbury closed Blaine's file, smoothing her hand over the cover. "How are you feeling about being at school today?"

"I-" Blaine bounced his right leg. "A little nervous, I guess, but I'm ready to be here."

She nodded and slid his file an inch or two across her desk so that it was lying precisely in the centre. Blaine stared down at it with some amusement – a guidance counsellor with what appeared to be OCD? That was different.

"I'll be available for you to come talk to any time during school hours if you need to," Miss Pillsbury told him with an encouraging smile. "If you ever feel overwhelmed or- or if you're struggling at all then don't be afraid to come and see me and we'll have a chat and sort it out for you, ok?"

Blaine nodded and thanked her, already losing interest in what she was saying. He had a meeting with his therapist tomorrow and another one every week after that to check on his progress at school and to make sure he was still happy, so he couldn't imagine why he'd need to see a school guidance counsellor on top of that. He imagined she was thinking that there was a chance he might breakdown in class or even have another panic attack, but that wasn't going to happen, Blaine was sure of it. He'd fought to have this life and return to school and he'd fight to keep it. He felt more confidant and sure of himself than he had in months. There would be no more setbacks caused by his past.

He barely listened as Miss Pillsbury spoke about the difficulties every new student faces and explained in reassuring tones how this was normal and Blaine didn't need to worry if he felt that way. He kept a polite smile on his face as he pretended to listen; what she was saying was nothing his therapist hadn't told him already or things he could have guessed himself.

Precise in everything from the positioning of her pamphlets to her schedule, Miss Pillsbury glanced at the clock and gave Blaine a small smile. "You have to head off to your classes now, but remember what I said: you're free to drop by any time you need to talk."

Blaine got to his feet and picked up his satchel. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." He began inching his way towards the door, throwing a hopeful glance over his shoulder to see if Kurt was there yet but only seeing a short section of deserted corridor.

"Is someone showing you the way to your next class?"

Blaine nodded at her again, taking another step backwards towards the door. "Kurt is – we're in the same class together."

Miss Pillsbury smiled. "I hope your first day here goes well."

After thanking her again, Blaine hurried out into the corridor just as the bell rang and the sounds of hundreds of students leaving classrooms filled the air.

"Ready for your first experience of a McKinley English class?"

A smile spread across Blaine's face at the sound of Kurt's voice and he closed the few paces between himself and his boyfriend eagerly. He raised a hand and caressed Kurt's arm briefly, aware that they would never really have complete privacy here.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he responded brightly, his mood instantly improved now that he was with Kurt again.

They set off down the corridor, Blaine lagging a little behind Kurt with his uncertainty of which way they were going. "How was the meeting with the principal?"

Kurt sighed wearily and Blaine felt his heart sink a little; that didn't bode well.

"Well, I explained everything to him," Kurt said as they wove their way through the streams of people shuffling along to their next class. "I even showed him the scar on my ribs – which I was _not _comfortable doing. But, I don't know…" He shrugged.

Blaine stared at him, almost tripping over his own feet as he waited to hear the rest of what happened. "Surely he'll do something to stop it? Have more teachers out in the corridors or warn the school of the consequences of bullying at least."

They paused to let a small group of girls in cheerleading uniforms pass. Kurt gave Blaine a pitying look over his shoulder.

"The thing is, the faculty seem to think that if they pretend there's no problems on campus then it's all ok and none of it really exists. Unless they get solid, hard evidence for something, they won't do much of anything about it."

Blaine followed Kurt with a familiar dejected feeling building inside him. It sounded like the exact same thing that had been going on at his old school – teachers not giving a shit about the students and only caring about their pay checks.

Having fallen behind from the horror washing over him, Blaine hurried to catch up with Kurt. "Your dad didn't stand for that, surely?"

"He's not happy," Kurt agreed. "He got Figgins to agree to talk to Karofsky about it, which he wasn't going to do originally because there's 'no solid evidence,'" Kurt scoffed, making quotation marks with his fingers. "Dad threatened to take the issue to the board of education if Figgins didn't do it."

"So, he's going to talk to Karofsky…"

"Today, after school. And then he's going to meet with my dad and me again and we'll go from there," Kurt filled in. Blaine hated how unhopeful he sounded. He automatically raised a hand to stroke Kurt's cheek comfortingly, but remembered where he was and let his hand fall with a heavy sigh.

"This is our English classroom," Kurt announced, stopping in front of an open door. He peered inside. "You'll have to introduce yourself to the teacher and then you can come sit by me. I normally sit alone in this class, so there's a free spot next to me."

Blaine's heart clenched upon hearing this, but as he was unable to give him the kiss he wanted to, he just nodded and followed Kurt into the nearly-full room. He had been so preoccupied with Kurt he'd missed all the curious stares directed his way as he'd walked through the halls, but now that he was in a small room and shyly approaching the teacher's desk he could feel the weight of each of the questioning gazes from every student in the room as if they were an actual physical presence on him.

Even the teacher stared at him, the intensity of his gaze increasing when he introduced himself. Blaine could practically see the teacher's thoughts displayed in his eyes. _That's the kid with the family problems; the one who was too insecure and troubled to come to class until today._ Blaine had never been so glad of bending the truth in his life.

The eyes of the students followed him all the way to the back of the room. He dropped down into the chair next to Kurt gratefully. Kurt glared at their classmates and they all looked away, although some of them continued to dart quick glances back at him.

They were cornered by Rachel the second they left the class.

"Why didn't you tell me Blaine was starting today?" she demanded, sounding hurt. "If it hadn't been for Finn and all the gossip about a new guy hanging around Kurt I would have had no idea he was here!"

Kurt looked like he was holding back a sigh with a lot of effort. "It was only decided a few days ago and we've been too busy preparing to let you know."

Rachel folded her arms across her chest and let out a huff. "You could have come and told me this morning; you know I always go to the choir room before classes start to practice." Not seeming to notice Kurt rolling his eyes, she turned to Blaine with a wide smile. "How's your first day been so far?" she asked eagerly, latching herself onto his arm and marching him down the hallway towards their next class which, unfortunately, they all shared.

Blaine flashed her a smile, looking to Kurt for help as Rachel steered him through the crowds of muttering students with surprising strength. He had forgotten how intense Rachel was.

"It's- It's been alright. I've only had one class, so-"

"No, you can't really make a judgement based on just one class, can you?" Rachel interrupted, nodding her head thoughtfully. She swept her hair over her shoulder with the hand that wasn't clinging to Blaine's arm. "Most of the teachers are ok, though, and if you stick with me and the rest of the Glee club you won't really have to worry about the rest of the student body – that's what I find anyway." She lifted her chin importantly, a gleam appearing in her eye that was becoming all too familiar to Blaine. "I mean, there's no point in listening to people who don't have a _clue _about talent…"

She continued to ramble on and on about herself and how under-appreciated she was at this school. Kurt took advantage of the thinning crowds and sped up to walk alongside Blaine, shaking his head with a reluctant fondness at Rachel.

"She will stop eventually," Kurt murmured in Blaine's ear, sending a little shiver through him that made him wish they were at home. Kurt must have seen the longing in his eyes, because he smiled sadly and whispered, "Later."

Blaine sighed internally, wishing the world was less narrow-minded and that people actually followed through with all the equality and acceptance speeches they rattled off. This was the twenty-first century for crying out loud! They shouldn't have to keep secrets and pretend they were only friends just because they were both male. He should be able to hold Kurt's hand as they walked to class, lean across and kiss his cheek when he did something adorable; they should be able to do what straight couples did out in public without fear of abuse.

"I _knew_ this was going to happen!"

Starting slightly as he came out of his thoughts, Blaine blinked in confusion at a triumphant Rachel, who was now standing in front of him and Kurt. She glanced eagerly between the two of them. "I knew it," she repeated.

"What are you talking about?" Kurt hadn't been paying any attention to her either, apparently.

"You two!" Rachel said happily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're together!"

"Oh." Blaine noticed Kurt shoot a quick, anxious look around them to make sure nobody had overheard. "Yeah, we are."

Blaine watched Rachel with mild surprise as she beamed at them.

"I knew it!" she practically squealed. "I knew you had a thing for each other back when I first met Blaine." She looked between them eagerly as Kurt sighed and led the way into the classroom. "So, how long have you been together? How did it start? I want details!"

Rachel slid into the desk in front of them, but sat sideways in her chair so she could continue talking to them. Blaine happily listened as Kurt began telling Rachel their story. Despite the exasperated sigh he'd given earlier, Kurt was smiling as he spoke. The pure happiness on Kurt's face and the enthusiasm with which he spoke made Blaine smile; he remembered Kurt telling him how lonely he'd felt listening to his friends gush about their relationships. He was on the other side now.

The rest of the day went smoothly. The staring from the other students decreased after lunch and by the end of the day hardly anyone seemed to care. Blaine met the rest of Kurt's friends and after several minutes of sitting stiffly and worrying that they wouldn't like him, he relaxed around them. They all seemed genuinely nice and he clicked with Mike especially after sitting with him in one of the few classes he didn't share with Kurt. Kurt had been sweetly protective of him when they'd first sat down to lunch with his friends, warning anyone who asked any delicate questions and sending his infamous bitch-glare to Santana when she pestered Blaine about his love life and taste in men. Rachel spent most of lunch dropping not-so-subtle hints that Blaine should join Glee club and she was so persistent about it that even Kurt gave up on trying to get her to stop.

It wasn't until they were in the car heading home and Kurt was expressing his relief that he hadn't seen Karofsky or any of his thugs all day that Blaine realised he still didn't know who the people bullying Kurt were. He felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment – he didn't want to face homophobic bullies again or see Kurt being bullied, but he wanted to stand up for his boyfriend and give those jerks a piece of his mind. It was probably stupid of him to want to, but it was something he was determined to do; he was done with cowering away from them.

* * *

"Did you end up applying to those colleges in New York?"

Kurt looked up from the novel he was reading for English class to find Blaine watching him with an odd expression on his face, one that immediately made him feel uneasy. He set his book aside.

"Yeah, I did," he replied tentatively.

Blaine nodded gravely. "Which ones have you applied to again?" he asked, avoiding Kurt's eyes.

"Parsons, FIT, and NYU."

With his gaze still lowered, Blaine nodded again. Kurt waited for him to say something else, for him to give some explanation as to why he'd asked completely out of the blue, but the seconds ticked by and Blaine didn't say anything, so Kurt broke the strangely tense silence.

"Why are you asking?"

Blaine shrugged. "Everyone is busy with applications right now and I realised I haven't heard you talk about college since the day I met Rachel and I wondered if your plans were still the same." He only gave Kurt the fleetest of glances as he spoke, directing most of his reply to the textbook lying open in front of him.

Biting his lip, Kurt worried a fold in the fabric of his pants between his thumb and forefinger. "Have you decided where you're going to apply to?"

Blaine shrugged noncommittally. Kurt opened his mouth to encourage Blaine to think about college more and to offer his help when understanding of what Blaine really wanted to know hit him like a lightning bolt.

The few feet of space between them on the bed suddenly felt like miles.

"Blaine," Kurt said softly, willing his boyfriend to look up and feeling relieved when he did, even though it looked like there was something beginning to crack behind Blaine's eyes. "I think we should talk about the future and what's going to happen after graduation."

Blaine stiffened. "You're going to go to New York where you'll live with Rachel and succeed at your fashion degree and build an amazing life for yourself," he rattled off easily, sounding as though he'd given the matter a lot of thought.

"And what about you?" Kurt whispered.

Flicking a page in his textbook, Blaine shook his head and dropped his gaze again, his mouth pressed into a tight line. "I'll be around," he said in a controlled voice. "And when I hear about all your successes or see your new clothing line in stores I'll be indescribably proud of you."

Kurt frowned, his feeling of dread heightening with each passing second. It sounded as though Blaine believed- Kurt couldn't even complete the thought.

He swallowed nervously. "You get a future, too."

When Blaine said nothing in response to this, not even looking up, Kurt shifted closer until they were sitting directly in front of each other.

"I thought that's why you were so determined to return to school, so you would be able to go to college and get the life you always dreamed of having?" Kurt couldn't believe that Blaine was giving up after coming so far and with his dream now on the horizon.

Blaine shook his head vigorously, still determinedly avoiding Kurt's eyes. "I'll never get my dream; I've gotten close, but I'll never get it. I can live without it, though. It won't be easy, but I can settle for staying in Ohio and getting a job here."

"Ohio?" Kurt repeated in disbelief. "Wh- But I thought you'd want to leave here! You said you did."

"I do," Blaine agreed. "But I don't think I can."

Kurt was flabbergasted. "Blaine, wh- Of course you can leave here! And what do you mean you'll never get your dream?"

When Blaine didn't respond after several long seconds, Kurt reached out and took his hand. At his touch, Blaine finally looked up and Kurt was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

"Blaine?"

"I'll never get my dream because I'll never make it to New York like you will. I won't get into college there and I won't get to study music there and I won't get to rent a too-small apartment with you and wake up every morning to the sound of the city and your smile." Blaine pressed his trembling lips together. "You're the biggest part of my dream, Kurt, and I just have to learn to accept that that dream will never be anything more than something I picture when I can't fall asleep at night."

Kurt's heart had begun to race in the most horrible way as a wild panic appeared as a dull burn somewhere in the region of his stomach. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't you be able to come to New York with me?"

"I can't be the one who holds you back, Kurt. You're going to make it big in New York, you're going to achieve so much more than you ever dreamed of – I know it – and I can't be the one who makes you hesitate every time you get a new amazing opportunity, who possibly even makes you turn offers down. I won't be a dead weight in your life, Kurt." The sadness in Blaine's eyes and painful resignation in his voice made Kurt's heart ache in a way he never thought was possible.

He gripped Blaine's hands tighter, willing him to see sense. "But why would you hold me back? We'd both do our separate courses and get our different jobs, but we'd still be together. I don't understand how you could possibly hold me back in whatever I end up doing or how any of it would be affected by our relationship." He dropped one of Blaine's hands to cup his face. "You could never be a dead weight to me, Blaine," he assured him softly. "I love you."

Blaine leant into the hand against his face, squeezing his eyes shut as if Kurt's words were painful. "I'm going to be stuck with memories from my past for the rest of my life," he said without opening his eyes. "For the rest of my life I'll have nightmares about it and there'll be days I slip up and get overwhelmingly depressed. I'm never going to completely recover and I don't want to ruin your life with all of that."

Kurt felt himself beginning to shake. This could not be leading to what a horrified and panicking part of him was thinking; he would not let Blaine end things between them for his stupid, noble reasons.

"But you won't," Kurt insisted firmly, dropping Blaine's other hand and taking his face in both hands. "You couldn't ever do that, and all of that stuff you were talking about – the nightmares and the bad days? I don't care about how any of that will affect my life." Kurt gazed fiercely into Blaine's eyes. "I love you," he said, his voice breaking a little. "I love you and that includes all of the baggage that comes with you. If we're still together when we've finished college and got jobs – and I really hope we will be – any opportunity I get will be discussed with you before I make a decision and if I turn it down it won't be because you're holding me back, it will be because it wasn't right for me or it wasn't right for us. You're more important to me than any job."

A single tear slipped down Blaine's cheek. Kurt caught it with his thumb and brushed away the shining track it left on Blaine's face.

"I don't want to lose you," Blaine whispered wretchedly.

"You won't…"

"That's why I never asked you about your college applications," Blaine continued. "I was scared. I knew I couldn't get into a New York college and I didn't want to face that facts that you going there would mean I would lose you – because you shouldn't stay with me while you're in New York; you don't want me tying you to Lima."

Kurt held back the urge to shake Blaine to try and make him see sense. He couldn't believe Blaine honestly felt this way. How long had he been thinking like this?

Kurt swiped his thumb gently under Blaine's eye to wipe away the tear that had just escaped. "Blaine, stop it," he said firmly. "If you stayed here in Lima you would not be a tie. Besides, you're talking like I would never come back to Lima once I moved to New York. My family is still here, and if you were here I'd come back to see you as often as possible." He pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Blaine's nose. "And what's all this about you not being able to get into a New York college? What makes you think that?"

Blaine lifted his shoulders in a small shrug, still trapped between Kurt's hands and in his gaze. "My school history is all over the place; I spent a good six or seven months teaching myself out of borrowed textbooks – how is that going to look on an application form?"

"So, your schooling has been a bit unusual," Kurt agreed. "So what? You still get top grades all the time and you're enrolled in a school and attending classes now. They can't turn you down because you've had some problems in the past that kept you out of school for a bit, not when you're smart and eager to learn and a perfect student for their school."

Blaine sighed in defeat. "Maybe, but I've still missed the application deadlines for a lot of places."

Kurt's eyes hardened with determination. "When were these deadlines?"

"Well, NYU was January first…"

Kurt nodded, remembering this from his own application. "You're still going to apply. We'll write to them and explain your situation; they might make exceptions in special circumstances. You've only _just _missed the deadline."

The determination in Kurt's voice made a small spark of hope flare up in Blaine's eyes. Kurt leant in and pressed a kiss to Blaine's lips, smoothed his thumbs over his cheeks, and then let his boyfriend go and crawled across the bed to fetch his laptop.

"What are you applying to study?" Kurt asked as he fired up his laptop. "Music?"

"Yeah," Blaine replied, watching Kurt with slight awe. "I think I want to be a music teacher."

Kurt looked up from the computer screen to stare at his boyfriend. He could picture it actually: Blaine wearing a bowtie and sitting next to an eager child in front of a piano, pointing to the sheet music, and playing out the more difficult sections to show how they sounded. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at the image.

"You'd be a fantastic teacher," he said.

Blaine's face lit up in a hope-filled smile.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter up! Between finishing my exams, work, and my beta being on family vacation, this was the earliest I could post this. But it's a long chapter to make up for it.

Kurt and Blaine's conversation about the future ended up being way more emotional than I originally planned it to be...

Thanks for reading and for all of the reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Hopefully the next chapter will be up quicker. I'll try my best to post it asap.

Next chapter: Blaine gets a haircut and makes a decision to try and get in contact with someone he hasn't spoken to in years, plus Karofsky makes an appearance.


	23. Chapter 23

To Kurt's immense relief Blaine continued to easily adapt to McKinley. He quickly learned his way around the school and memorised his combination for his locker; he knew which foods to avoid in the cafeteria and which were edible, and people were no longer staring at him curiously as he passed them in the hallways. Rachel was still pestering him about joining Glee club, but she did genuinely like Blaine as a person and not just a potential duet partner and Kurt was pleased to see that she wanted Blaine to be happy at school. Blaine was also getting along very well with Sam and Mike and had even been invited to one of their gaming nights at Mike's house, news that had put Kurt in an extremely good mood for the rest of the day.

In spite of Blaine's encouraging first week, Kurt was constantly on-edge while he was at school, waiting on tenterhooks for Karofsky and his friends to strike. Blaine had gotten his first glimpse of the bullies on his second day when Kurt pointed them out from across the cafeteria, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling in his stomach from the way the group of jocks were scowling at them every now and then. He knew they would be cornered by the bullies eventually, he didn't believe for a second that whatever 'talk' Figgins had had with them would have persuaded them to stop harassing people.

On Thursday, Blaine received a reply from NYU concerning his late application. He read the response out loud to Kurt in a shaky voice and Kurt pulled him into a hug when he learned that the school was willing to consider Blaine.

"You've got a good chance," Kurt whispered, pressing a kiss to Blaine's temple. "You're so smart and talented; they'd be crazy not to accept you."

With Kurt's encouragement, they did some research and Blaine applied to a few other colleges. Even though none of them were in New York, Kurt promised that they would make their relationship work, and insisted that Blaine not base his decision on Kurt. He wanted Blaine to go wherever he would be happiest.

With the more important issues dealt with, Kurt felt it was about time he got around to dealing with something that had been bugging him for the past few weeks – Blaine's hair.

It was a mop; there was no other word to describe it. The dark curls fell into Blaine's eyes, hanging limply over his forehead and sticking up in places at the back of his head. It had now reached that frizzy too-long stage and there was probably a lot of split ends in that curly mass. Blaine needed it cut, badly.

When Blaine came down for breakfast on Sunday morning, yawning and scratching his head so that his hair became even more rumpled than the just-out-of-bed mess it was already in, Kurt decided enough was enough.

"You're getting a haircut today," he announced as Blaine brushed a half-awake kiss to his cheek and dropped down into the chair next to him.

Blaine blinked sleepily at him. "I am?"

Reaching for the coffee pot in the centre of the table, Kurt poured Blaine a mug and pushed it towards him. "Your hair has been a mess for ages now; I can't stand it any longer."

"I suppose you're right," Blaine agreed, tugging on a curl that hung down by his eye. "I've gotten used to having it long and curly like this, it'll be strange having it short again."

"Who said anything about short? I'm only giving you a bit of a trim to tidy it up. I like the curls too much to cut them off." Kurt ran his fingers lightly through Blaine's hair with a smile.

Blaine sat up straight in his chair. "Wait, _you're_ cutting it?" he asked, sounding shocked. "I didn't know you could cut hair."

A small smirk inched onto Kurt's face. "Well, anyone can cut hair," he teased. "But, yeah, I can. I've been trimming my own hair in between visits to the hairdresser for years now."

Blaine raised a hand to touch his curls protectively, looking uncertain.

"I won't take too much off," Kurt promised hastily. "Just a trim to tidy it up a bit so it doesn't look quite so much like you've got some kind of weird wig on."

Nodding slowly, Blaine took a sip of his coffee. "Ok."

"Ok?" Kurt repeated, brightening at the prospect of being allowed the freedom to style Blaine's hair.

Blaine met his gaze over the top of his coffee mug. "I trust you."

Hearing those words never failed to warm Kurt's heart, and he turned back to his breakfast with a soft smile. Sometimes, in moments like this, it just hit him out of the blue how far he and Blaine had come; less than six months ago he'd been taking his homework up into the attic, where he sat against the opposite wall to a wary and silent Blaine. And now they were sitting at the breakfast table together, they were in love, and Blaine had just casually kissed him on the cheek. Some days Kurt could scarcely believe this wasn't a dream.

After breakfast Kurt tugged Blaine eagerly by the hand up to his bedroom, where he sat him down in front of his vanity mirror.

"It'll be weird to lose the hair," Blaine muttered passively, running a hand through his curls again.

Kurt dug through one of the drawers, searching for his scissors. "It's just hair, it's not like it's your arm or something," he pointed out.

"Says the person who grumbled for an hour after I mussed up his hair," Blaine shot back with a grin. Kurt stuck his tongue out at him before returning to his search. Shoving an old notebook aside, he finally extracted the scissors from the depths of the drawer and set them down on the surface of the vanity along with a comb.

Blaine eyed the scissors warily.

"Be right back," Kurt told him, humming as he went into his bathroom to fetch a spray bottle – which he filled with water – along with a couple towels.

"What's that for?" Blaine asked when Kurt re-entered the bedroom. "Are you going to spray me if I don't sit still?"

Laughing lightly, Kurt set the bottle down, laid out one of the towels on the floor, and then stood behind Blaine, wrapping the other around his shoulders. "Well, maybe…" he teased, smoothing out the creases. He dipped down to kiss the top of Blaine's head before reaching for the comb. "Damp hair cuts more easily, honey."

"Oh," Blaine said absently, his eyes fixed on the mirror he was facing as he watched Kurt run the comb gently through his hair, working out a few knots carefully. He made a small noise of contentment in the back of his throat as Kurt continued, his fingers moving through the curls along with the comb.

Kurt smiled at the sound, a feeling of peace filling him, his hand briefly moving down to caress Blaine's cheek when his eyes fluttered shut.

Blaine was jolted out of his blissful contentment when Kurt picked up the scissors and spray bottle.

"Ok, how short do you want it?" Kurt asked, tugging gently at a few curls and giving Blaine a teasing grin in the mirror.

"If you make a mess of my hair I won't cuddle with you for a month," Blaine warned.

Spraying a section of hair with water, Kurt replied, "I thought you trusted me?" He set the bottle down on the vanity and shifted until he was in a better position.

Blaine was eyeing the scissors in Kurt's hand where they were reflected in the mirror. "Just get on with it."

Pulling the comb out of his jeans pocket where he'd shoved it, Kurt ran it through a section of hair, positioned the scissors and…

Snip.

A short, curling piece of Blaine's hair tumbled down onto his towel-covered shoulders. Pausing, Kurt stared down at that small lock of hair, feeling an odd, tiny pang of sadness at the sight. He really _did_ love Blaine's hair – the way it curled against the curve of his jawbone beneath his ear; the way the soft, silky locks felt between his fingers; the tenderness that filled him when he reached over to brush the curls off Blaine's forehead and away from his eyes – and a part of him didn't want to cut it, despite a larger part of him thinking that it was too long. He brushed the curl off Blaine's shoulder, his hand lingering by the back of Blaine's neck for a moment, before he mentally gave himself a small shake and returned his attention to the task in hand.

"I won't cut too much off," he reiterated, not knowing whether he was assuring himself or Blaine.

Snip.

"Not too much," he repeated in a low mutter under his breath. He could sense Blaine watching him in the mirror and even without looking up he could picture the slightly raised eyebrow and questioning look he was sending him. Kurt forced himself to focus and cast his mind about for something to talk about while he worked, something to fill the silence. It landed on something he'd starting thinking about recently, spurred by a conversation he'd had with Blaine months ago.

"I've been thinking about your brother…" Kurt began cautiously, not sure how Blaine would feel about this topic or what he was about to suggest. He expertly cut a few more locks of hair as he awaited an indication from Blaine that he was happy for him to continue with this topic of conversation.

Blaine had tensed slightly at Kurt's words, but his voice was level when he responded.

"What about my brother?"

Kurt snagged the spray bottle. "I was wondering if you'd like to try and get in touch with him again. You haven't spoken to him in years, you said you think he has no idea what happened to you, and I think it would be good for you to at least try and get back in contact with him."

Blaine remained silent as Kurt dampened another section of his hair and started trimming it. He didn't look up at the mirror, but kept his gaze firmly trained on Blaine's hair, a little worried about what Blaine's response might be.

It was almost a minute later when Blaine finally responded.

"I- I don't know. I'd like to be able to see him again and have a family member that doesn't hate me, but- I don't know…"

He didn't sound at all enthusiastic about the idea and Kurt could see why. After the way Cooper had just walked out of Blaine's life, coupled with the way his parents had treated him, it was no wonder Blaine didn't want to take the chance of being hurt again. Kurt knew getting in contact with Cooper would be a risk – he could easily be like his parents and want nothing to do with Blaine – but it might be a risk worth taking.

Kurt ran his fingers through the thick hair on top of Blaine's head. "It's up to you, Blaine, but I think it would be good for you." As he finished trimming another section and reached for the spray bottle again, he glanced up at his boyfriend's reflection.

Blaine looked conflicted. Kurt could almost see the war raging behind his eyes as Blaine's brows knitted together and his fingers plucked at the knee of his pants. Sympathy tugged at Kurt's heart at the sight of Blaine's struggle.

"Take some time to think about it," he suggested, squeezing Blaine's shoulder briefly as he moved around to work on the other side of Blaine's head. "I know it's not an easy decision for you to make."

"No, you're right," Blaine said, giving his head a tiny shake. "Sorry," he added when Kurt jerked the scissors back to avoid messing up. "It'd be good for me. Even if Cooper doesn't want to be back in my life, at least I'll get to ask why he left all those years ago and hasn't bothered to get in touch with me since."

Pausing with the scissors and comb hovering an inch or two above Blaine's hair, Kurt met Blaine's eyes in the mirror. "Are you sure? I know I was the one to suggest it, but…" He trailed off at the determined look in Blaine's eyes.

"I'm sure," Blaine told him.

Kurt gave him a quick smile before turning to his hair. "Ok." He cut a few locks of hair. "I'm not really sure how we'll go about tracking him down, though," he admitted. He absently brushed a few chopped curls off Blaine's shoulder. "I guess we'll just start by Googling his name and seeing if anything useful comes up."

Blaine hummed in agreement. "I know what college he went to, so we could try their website – sometimes they mention what graduates have gone on to do."

"Good thinking," Kurt said with a nod. Then he frowned. "Although if your parents haven't been able to reach him then I doubt we'll have much luck."

"My parents never really tried. Once Cooper changed his phone number, moved out, and said he was done with the family that was enough for them." Blaine scowled. "They want to pretend that everything with him is perfect."

Kurt carded his fingers though the trimmed curls at Blaine's neck in a gesture of comfort and continued to cut them in silence. Blaine kept shifting slightly in his chair and Kurt would have to jerk his hands away each time, but he never told Blaine off; he knew Blaine had a lot to think about.

"All done," Kurt announced a while later, flicking the comb through some hair by Blaine's right ear and snipping at a few stray hairs he'd missed. "You no longer look like some kind of hippie."

Blinking, Blaine came out of his thoughts. "You're finished?" He leaned forwards and surveyed his new hairstyle critically in the mirror, turning his head this way and that to try and see it from all angles. "It looks great, Kurt – thanks!"

Kurt was scrabbling through a drawer trying to find a mirror to hold up so Blaine could see the back of his head. "Why do you sound so surprised?" He made a small noise of triumph and pulled the mirror out, holding it up so Blaine could see his hair at the back.

"I'm not surprised at how well you cut it, I'm just a little surprised at how much I like it," Blaine replied, still examining his hair.

"So, you _do_ like it?" Kurt asked, needing to make sure. He tweaked one of the curls on Blaine's forehead.

Blaine grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. "Of course I do." He grinned at Kurt. "And you loved my hippie hair, you liar."

Kurt pulled his hand away and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "So, you really want to do this? You want to contact Cooper?" he asked, serious again.

Blaine sobered immediately. "Really," he confirmed.

Nodding, Kurt gathered up the towel around Blaine's shoulders, careful not to drop any hair on the carpet. "Ok, you go turn on my laptop while I tidy this up."

Blaine turned in his chair to look at him with some alarm. "You're going to start looking up Cooper now?"

Kurt paused. "I don't see why we should wait – unless you aren't ready, of course."

Shaking his head, Blaine said hastily, "No, no I'm ready. I just- No, you're right, we don't need to wait, it's been long enough." He stood up and went to fetch the laptop, Kurt's concerned gaze following him.

"Do you think we should try Google or Facebook first?" Blaine asked as he opened up the web browser. Kurt quickly finished cleaning up and joined him on the bed.

"Facebook," he decided after a moment.

Blaine opened up the website, Kurt signed in – Blaine had never had an account – and then he typed his brother's name into the search bar.

There were a number of Cooper Andersons. Blaine scrolled slowly through the list, until-

"There," he breathed, pointing at one of the Cooper Andersons. The picture showed a handsome, dark-haired man in his twenties with startling blue eyes, but all that was listed next to his picture was his location – Los Angeles, California.

Blaine clicked on the link to the main profile and Kurt's heart sunk – it was set to private.

Blaine stared glumly at the webpage. "At least we know he's still in California."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed as brightly as he could. "That should make it easier to search for him."

Google, however, gave them nothing useful, and Cooper's college's website was equally unhelpful.

"We could try contacting the college," Kurt suggested without much hope. "They might tell us what he's doing now if they know you're his brother. You said he wanted to do Law, right?"

Sighing, Blaine clicked off the college website. "I doubt they give away information like that; I could be anyone."

Running a finger absently over a row of computer keys, Kurt stared at the screen, willing his brain to come up with an idea. After a minute or two, when his laptop's screensaver had flickered on, he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face in frustration.

"The telephone directory?" Kurt suggested.

Blaine fidgeted with a raised fold in the bedding. "I thought about that, but I don't know if he'd be in it. If you're trying to stay out of your family's lives you wouldn't allow your phone number to be available like that, would you?" He shrugged. "It seems silly not to check, though."

"How do we get a telephone directory for LA? Is it online?" Kurt brushed his finger over the touchpad and his laptop screen glowed to life again. He typed his query into Google, his fingers becoming a blur on the keys when he discovered it was possible to search through the directory online. His hopes crashed again when he saw the number of people sharing Cooper's name in the LA area – there was no way they could call all of those numbers to find Blaine's brother.

"I could put an advert up online describing who I'm looking for – people do that, don't they?" Blaine suggested dully.

Kurt pushed his laptop away from him. "I think we'll save that for our last resort, it sounds a little weird." He frowned at his laptop. "We could ask my dad, he might know of something else we could try."

Sighing softly, Blaine leant into Kurt's side. "How come I've got a feeling that we're never going to find Cooper unless we go to LA and go around knocking on people's doors?"

Kurt chuckled lightly and kissed Blaine's hair, burying his nose in the soft, newly-trimmed curls. "Where is the optimism?"

When Blaine muttered something indistinct in response, Kurt put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed them gently. "We'll find your brother."

He ignored the voice in his head reminding him that they had no idea how Cooper would react to seeing his younger brother again or to learning that Blaine was gay. Finding Cooper could be another blow to Blaine or it could fill that gaping hole inside of him caused by his parents, the hole that had been stitched together by Kurt's family but not healed. He just had to hope that Cooper had that same missing piece inside of him.

* * *

As it turned out, Burt did have a few suggestions for finding Cooper, but none of them were successful. All they knew was that he lived in Los Angeles and he had completed a degree at UCLA. Not very useful.

Blaine couldn't help but be disappointed. His imagination had wistfully conjured up scenarios where he and Cooper met and fixed the bad blood between them and he became that supportive big brother he remembered from his childhood and had wished for all those years he'd shut himself in his room to avoid his parents. He tried not to let it show, knowing that Kurt would feel extremely guilty. He talked about it with his therapist, which helped greatly and reminded him that he had Kurt, Carole, Burt, Finn, and all of the people at school he was becoming friends with. He wasn't alone anymore.

A few days after this meeting with his therapist, Blaine was walking to his locker with Mike after class, looking forward to dumping his books and going to lunch, where he would get to see Kurt. The hallways were packed with people spilling out of classrooms, so Blaine didn't see Kurt standing by his locker until he was almost right in front of him.

"Hurry up, I'm starving," Kurt moaned when Blaine was close enough to hear him over the voices of dozens of students and the slams of locker doors. "I just spent the last hour writing essays in French and now my hand feels like it's about to drop off."

Mike shook his head at Kurt and continued down the hall towards his own locker, while Blaine reached for his combination lock. "What does your hand have to do with you being hungry?" he teased.

Groaning, Kurt slapped his arm gently. "I'm just really hungry, ok? And you're taking your sweet time to put a few books away."

Dumping his books on top of the small stack in his locker, Blaine grinned at his boyfriend. "If you're too impatient to be a gentleman and wait for me then go and I'll see you there in a couple of minutes."

Kurt unhitched himself from the locker he was leaning against. "How can it take you a couple of minutes? You've put your books in your locker, so let's go." He tugged at Blaine's sleeve, smiling at him in that way that Blaine swore made the rest of the world stand still for a moment.

Breathing a little irregular, Blaine closed his locker. "Well, I wouldn't want you to starve…"

What happened next occurred so quickly that even if Blaine had been looking up and seen them coming there was no way he could have prevented it.

There was a flash of red, the stumbling of many feet, and a loud, angry slam as Kurt disappeared from in front of him, sent hurtling into the bank of lockers they'd just stepped away from. There was a second in which he turned his head to check Kurt was ok, a second where panic began to unfurl inside of him like a leaf, before large hands collided with his side and he too was shoved into the hard, unforgiving lockers. The slam of his body against metal echoed in his head. He was breathless for a few seconds, the air knocked out of him by the impact, and all he was aware of was this lack of air and the noise ringing in his ears. Then he remembered Kurt. He turned his head to the side to find Kurt still slumped against the lockers, his arms wrapped protectively around his waist, his wide, worried eyes on Blaine.

"You ok?" Blaine asked him quickly.

Kurt nodded and opened his mouth to say something, no doubt to ask Blaine the same thing, but Blaine turned away; it was time to stop this.

Using his forearm as leverage, he pushed himself away from the lockers and faced down the small group of boys in letterman jackets smirking at him.

"Hey!"

His voice rang loud and clear, carrying easily through the hall, and silence spread in a wave as students stopped their muttering and chatting to watch.

The jocks stared at him with amusement. Now that he was looking at them properly, Blaine recognised the boy standing in the centre of the group as Karofsky. His resolve hardened.

"What did Kurt ever do to you?" Blaine asked them with a strength that should have surprised him. There was no surprise today, though; today he was fuelled by his anger and his need to protect Kurt; today he was just _done_ with all the abuse and the shit he, Kurt, and others like them received for being themselves. Today he actually felt as brave as Kurt said he was.

Karofsky arched an eyebrow at him, folding his arms across his chest and smirking lazily. "What has he done to us?" he repeated. He shot Kurt a brief glance, the look in his eyes making Blaine's hands curl into fists by his sides. "None of us should have to listen to his girly voice or see him prancing down the hallway in his faggy outfits or worry about getting changed in the locker room while he's in-"

"Oh, please," Blaine interrupted, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "As if Kurt would want to look at any of you."

"We're sorry," one of the other boys whose name Blaine didn't know said. "We didn't realise Kurt liked his men… _small_." He said this last word with his voice loaded with meaning as his gaze flickered over Blaine.

Not taking the bait, Blaine just scowled in response. "So in other words he's done absolutely nothing, but because you're all a bunch of close-minded, ignorant, immature jerks you've harassed him even after warnings from the principal."

Karofsky's eyes narrowed. "Watch what you're saying, short-ass, or you'll find yourself acquainted with Kurt's dumpster." His sneer widened at Blaine's fuming expression. "That's right; your fairy boy's been shown where he belongs plenty of times." He stepped closer to Blaine, leaning forward like he was sharing a secret but still speaking loud enough for the large crowd of staring students to overhear. "With the trash."

Absolutely livid, Blaine took a step towards Karofsky as the other boy moved back, laughing quietly at him. A hand grasped Blaine's arm from behind.

"Blaine, please…" Kurt pleaded quietly, tugging at Blaine's sleeve. "Please don't, you'll just make things worse for yourself."

"All the more reason to make them stop," Blaine told Kurt under his breath, twisting around a little so he met Kurt's anxious gaze. "They can't keep doing this, Kurt; not to you, not to anyone." He turned back to Karofsky and his friends who were still watching him with narrowed eyes and cocky, menacing smirks.

"Does that make you feel tough?" he asked them. Confusion flickered across Karofsky's face. "Does harassing an innocent person make you feel superior? Empowered?"

Karofsky's face screwed up unpleasantly. "It makes me feel like I'm doing the right thing," he shot back. "I'm putting people like you in their place."

"What place?" Blaine wondered. He folded his arms across his chest, adrenaline still pumping through his body, making his pulse race. "And you're implying that you do all of this by yourself, but it's never that way, you've always got your cronies with you-" he waved a hand to indicate Karofsky's friends "-it's always a group of you against one person." He shook his head, letting out a small huff of unamused laughter. "Not very _brave_, that."

Karofsky's friends were scowling darkly now, but Karofsky's face was twisted up into a look of pure venom. He lunged towards Blaine, the crowds of students looped around them scattering backwards with a low, excited mutter in anticipation of a fight. Blaine stood his ground despite Kurt tugging on his sleeve again, and Karofsky stopped around a foot away, leaning forward into Blaine's personal space.

"Did you just call me a coward?" Karofsky hissed.

The crowds watching tittered. Blaine fleetingly wondered where all the teachers were and why none of them were intervening. He found it very hard to believe that they were all ignorant of what was happening. No wonder the school had problems with bullying.

Blaine didn't even flinch. "Stay away from Kurt," he growled, enunciating each word clearly. "If you lay a finger on him again I will make sure you pay."

Karofsky opened his mouth, the beginnings of an amused smirk twitching the corners of his mouth, but something in Blaine's expression caused him to falter and the scowl to harden as he closed his mouth again. He straightened up.

"It's your senior year, shouldn't you be spending your final days here making the most of it? Hanging out with friends and trying to get into a good college? Instead of harassing someone that in a few months, you'll never see again?"

The watching crowd seemed to draw a collective breath and hold it, falling silent as everyone stared at Karofsky, who gaped speechlessly at Blaine. Blaine raised an eyebrow at him.

The other jocks looked to Karofsky to respond, but Karofsky just mouthed wordlessly at Blaine for a moment, before starting to move slowly away.

"Stay away from Kurt, Karofsky!" Blaine called after him. "Get a life."

Still none of them had anything to say in response to this. After one last glare at Blaine, Karofsky shoved his way through the crowds – who immediately scattered – with his friends trudging after him. They were gone in less than thirty seconds.

Blaine exhaled in a whoosh, his hands and knees beginning to tremble slightly as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in.

A hand was placed on his shoulder. "Blaine?"

He turned to face his stunned boyfriend who was pale-faced and wearing an expression of disbelief.

"I can't believe- What were you- Why- I can't believe you did that," Kurt stammered. "I can't believe you stood up to them like that."

"They shoved you," Blaine stated simply, as though that explained everything – and it did, to him.

Kurt stared at him. "But-"

"Are you bruised?" Blaine asked, eyeing Kurt's left side with concern. He ran a hand ever so lightly down the length of Kurt's ribs. "How hard did you hit those lockers?"

Prodding at his side experimentally, Kurt shook his head. "I'm fine." He gazed over Blaine's shoulder at where Karofsky had been standing moments ago. "I just- You stood up to Karofsky; you did something I've never had the guts to do." His eyes focused back on Blaine. "Why did you ever think you aren't brave?"

Blaine lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. "Because I'm not really that brave – not usually; you're the one who has made me brave, it's because of you that I had the courage to do that today."

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again almost immediately, apparently unable to find the words for what he wanted to say. Instead, he leaned forward and Blaine let his eyes flutter shut, his heart leaping in anticipation as Kurt's breath ghosted over his lips…

A locker was slammed shut nearby and they jumped apart. Blaine cleared his throat, looking around for the source of the noise, annoyed at the interruption, at being yanked back to reality. Kurt adjusted the front of his waistcoat, looking slightly flustered.

"Well, uh- I don't know if what you said will make Karofsky leave us alone, but I'll tell my dad and Figgins what happened and hopefully something more will be done."

"Hopefully." Blaine checked his watch. "We'd better go get lunch before it's over."

The cafeteria was abuzz with talk of the confrontation between Karofsky and Blaine. People stared at him and Kurt as they quickly grabbed some food and sat down at their usual table, where they were immediately bombarded from their friends' interrogations. Blaine had to wolf down his food in between talking, and he found himself glad when lunch ended so he could escape the endless – and somewhat repetitive – questions.

He shared the rest of the day's classes with Kurt, which meant he wouldn't have to worry about Kurt being cornered by Karofsky somewhere. He was honestly surprised when they left school without any more run-ins.

"Do you want to go grab a coffee?" Kurt asked as he pulled out of the school parking lot.

"Yeah, alright."

They drove the short distance to the Lima Bean. There was no undercurrent of jittery nerves like there had been last time Blaine was here. Today, he had stood up for Kurt. Today, he was brave.

Once they got their coffees and were seated, Kurt immediately launched into analysing Karofsky's reactions during his encounter with Blaine and speculating why he hadn't tried to corner them at the end of the day like he'd been expecting. Blaine listened and offered up his own thoughts, but kept getting distracted by a woman seated at a nearby table who kept glancing in their direction.

"Do you know who that woman is?" he asked Kurt in a low voice when he couldn't stand it any longer. "The one in the blue sweater," he added when Kurt looked around, frowning.

Kurt shook his head slowly. "I don't think so, no." He turned back to Blaine with a curious expression.

"She keeps looking over at us," Blaine explained, continuing to watch the woman out of the corner of his eye.

Kurt took a thoughtful sip of coffee. "She's not from your old school or anything?"

Blaine took in her appearance again, seeing if anything triggered a memory at all. Nothing. "No, I don't recognise her."

Kurt shrugged. "She might not be looking at us; there are other tables around us."

"I know, it just seemed like it was us she was…" Blaine trailed off and shook his head. "Never mind, you're right. It's probably someone else." He lifted his coffee cup to his mouth. "Have you decided what essay question you're going to do for English?"

Blaine tried to forget about the woman, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she had been looking at them. The feeling only strengthened when he caught her glancing over a few more times before she left, shooting one last glance over her shoulder in their direction on her way out the door. He forced himself to forget about her – why would she have been looking at him and Kurt anyway?

Finn was waiting for them when they got home from the Lima Bean.

"I can't believe you said all of that to Karofsky!" he exclaimed, staring at Blaine as though he was seeing him in a whole new light. "Hardly anyone dares to argue with him, never mind what you did." He gaped at Blaine for a moment. "How could you do it?"

Blaine just shrugged and placed his hand on the small of Kurt's back, looking up at his boyfriend. "I did it for Kurt."

* * *

**A/N: **Apologies again for the long wait - my beta and I are both really busy and this was the quickest the chapter could be posted.

What did you guys think of the Valentine's Day episode of Glee? I sure enjoyed it ;)

Thank you all for reading and for all of the reviews! I am amazed at the response this story has been getting and I'm glad so many of you are enjoying it.

Thanks also to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter: Blaine has a nightmare, Karofsky arranges a meeting, and Kurt and Blaine are approached by people they never expected to run into.


	24. Chapter 24

"I've found somewhere," Kurt announced after letting himself into Blaine's bedroom without bothering to knock.

Blaine's head shot up from the textbook he'd been frowning down at, startled by Kurt's sudden appearance. "Found somewhere?" he repeated blankly.

"For you to play piano for tips," Kurt elaborated. He threw himself down onto the bed next to Blaine, making the textbook and papers scattered on top of the bedding bounce slightly. "The guy who normally plays was promoted at his other job and doesn't have the time anymore, so they're looking for someone to replace him." He bounced up and down on the bed a little, excited. He hadn't expected an opportunity to appear this soon.

Blaine wasn't so quick to share his sentiment. "Where is this place? And are you sure they want someone to replace this guy?" he asked sceptically.

"It's a restaurant in the town centre," Kurt explained. "It's not the biggest of places, but they've apparently had someone play the piano there for years. Mercedes' older sister is a waitress there – that's how I heard about it."

Blaine picked at the bedding. "Would they want someone like me, though? I'm still in school and can't do it every night."

Kurt just shrugged and smiled. "You won't know until you ask them, and if they hear you play they'd be crazy not to give you the job." He reached over and patted his boyfriend's knee. "We can go over after school tomorrow and see what they say."

Nodding, Blaine gave him a grateful smile. "Sorry for the pessimism."

Kurt rubbed Blaine's knee again. "It's fine; it's just one of those things."

At school the next day, he was able to walk down the halls without getting shoved into a locker; he could round a corner without a slushie being tossed in his face; he could pass a dumpster without getting thrown into it. It was weird. He'd become so used to the harassment that his day just felt strange without any of it. Even though nothing happened since Blaine had stood up to Karofsky, he was still a little jumpy. He didn't trust Karofsky one bit.

On the rare occasion that he did see Karofsky or any of his friends, they ignored him completely, looking deliberately in the opposite direction when they passed in the halls and keeping their eyes down while in class or the cafeteria. Either Blaine's words had struck a nerve, or else they'd been thrown off by someone finally fighting back against them. Kurt and Blaine were both relieved and suspicious. It seemed too good to be true. Even Finn noticed the change, confused by why Karofsky was now so subdued in class.

Kurt and Blaine discussed Karofsky on the way to the restaurant after school, asking the same questions and making the same expressions of disbelief as they had every day since Blaine had confronted the bully, but still nowhere closer to wrapping their heads around the situation or believing it.

Karofsky was driven from Kurt's mind as he waited in the car while Blaine went inside to inquire about playing the piano there. Instead he prayed to what or whoever might be listening that Blaine got this job, his leg bouncing with anxiety. When Blaine appeared over twenty minutes later, Kurt froze and squinted through the windshield, trying to see from Blaine's expression if he'd been successful. Blaine kept his face deliberately impassive until he was seated in the car next to Kurt again, and then he turned to face his boyfriend with a delighted smile.

"I got it! I play Thursday and Friday nights and Saturday afternoons."

Kurt laughed in his happiness and lunged forward to grab Blaine in a hug, holding him as close as he possibly could with the centre console in the way. "I told you!"

"You're always right, apparently," Blaine chuckled, his voice slightly muffled by Kurt's neck.

Kurt kissed the top of his head. "I am."

It seemed as though their luck had finally turned around. Everything was going smoothly for once. Blaine's therapy sessions decreased to once a fortnight, school continued to be harassment-free, and Blaine had his first night playing piano at the restaurant, returning home in shock at the praise he had received and the amount of money he'd earned. Once everyone had congratulated him, Blaine told Burt and Carole that he wanted to use the money he earned to pay them back for all of the therapy sessions. They were both touched and Kurt knew they would have protested had it not been for the stubborn look in Blaine's eyes and knowing how happy it would make him.

Kurt should have known this period of ease, of Blaine laughing and smiling and placing soft kisses to the upturned corners of Kurt's mouth, would reach a stumbling block at some point. Life could never be that perfect forever.

"Kurt?"

Kurt inhaled sharply and rolled over in his bed, burying his face deeper into his pillow and trying to keep a hold of sleep as something tried to tug him into wakefulness.

"Kurt?"

He jerked awake and sat up so quickly it almost made his head spin. "Blaine?" He squinted across his dark bedroom at Blaine's outline over by the door. "Is everything alright?"

Blaine hesitantly shuffled further into the room. "Sorry," he apologised quietly. The tremble in his voice made Kurt's chest tighten with worry. "I know your dad said I wasn't supposed to come in here at night, but I had a nightmare and now I can't get back to sleep. I tried to, but I needed you and I-"

"Blaine…" Kurt gently cut off his boyfriend's rambling. "It's ok." Blaine was close enough now that Kurt could see the tear tracks on his cheeks. He looked so small and vulnerable with his ruffled hair and slightly too-big pyjama pants pooling around his feet; it made Kurt's heart ache. He flipped the bed covers back on the empty side of the bed and held out his arms towards Blaine.

He didn't give a shit about his dad's rules right now, not when Blaine was distressed and needed him.

"Come here," he added when Blaine just stared at him, sniffling quietly.

Blaine stumbled over to the bed and into Kurt's arms, where he buried his face into the crook of Kurt's neck and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. Kurt held him close, rubbing his back soothingly and pressing sporadic kisses to any part of him that he could reach. A fierce protectiveness filled him and he rested his head on top of Blaine's, hoping that his boyfriend felt safe and comforted in his arms.

He didn't know how long they sat there like that, Kurt occasionally rocking Blaine, who was practically curled up in his lap. Once or twice, Kurt thought Blaine had fallen asleep, but then the other boy would shift his grip on him or nuzzle his face against Kurt's neck. Eventually, Blaine lifted his head and looked up at him with red eyes. Kurt gave him a small smile and smoothed his cheek with his thumb.

"You ok?" he asked in a soft murmur.

Blaine nodded. "I'm better now." He shifted slightly against Kurt. "Sorry about this, you must be tired."

Kurt brushed off his apology. "Hey, no. You can come to me anytime you need to, doesn't matter what time it is or what I'm doing."

Blaine sniffed quietly and let his head rest against Kurt's shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about your nightmare?" Kurt asked.

Shrugging, Blaine began tracing random patterns with his index finger onto the soft skin just above Kurt's hipbone. "It was one I've had before – being beaten up and tormented while my parents watch and then something slams into my ribs and I hear a crack and then I start to fall…" His finger stilled against Kurt's side and his eyes became distant. "I always wake up when I'm falling. The fall is the worst part…"

Kurt gave Blaine a comforting squeeze and kissed his temple. "I'm sorry, baby. I wish there was a way to make them stop."

"Can I- Can I sleep here tonight?" Blaine asked tentatively.

"Of course you can." Kurt reached for the edge of the duvet and tugged it over the two of them.

Blaine snuggled into his chest. "Thank you," he murmured, his eyes already closed and his face softening as he relaxed into his boyfriend's embrace.

Smiling fondly, Kurt kissed his forehead. "Love you."

Blaine hummed drowsily in response, his right leg slipping into the space between Kurt's as sleep slowly pulled him under. Kurt watched his boyfriend's face as he fell asleep, watched the features soften and become younger and more vulnerable, felt his breathing slow into a deep, steady rhythm. He gently stroked the curls back from Blaine's forehead and silently thanked whatever power made Blaine choose this house to hide out in, made his father buy it, made him and Blaine meet and develop the relationship they had today. He shuddered to think what position Blaine would be in if he wasn't here with him.

He sleepily rubbed Blaine's back once more before drifting off to sleep.

A loud thudding noise woke Kurt the next morning and he groaned as he curled closer into Blaine's side, nuzzling into the warm body next to him. A few seconds passed and then the feeling of another presence in the room made him open his eyes. He frowned as he lifted himself up onto his elbows – was this the new way to wake him up or something? Blinking blearily, he looked around. And froze.

His dad was standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest and an unimpressed expression on his face. He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," Kurt said lamely.

"Oh, indeed," Burt agreed. There was a pause as he stared at Kurt, who was nervously fidgeting with the bed covers. "Care to explain?" Burt asked, nodding his head at where Blaine was tucked against Kurt's side, his head sharing Kurt's pillow, and his arm slung around Kurt's waist.

Kurt bit back the immediate response that rose to the tip of his tongue – 'it's not what it looks like' – and just went straight to the facts.

"He had a nightmare," he explained, glancing down at his boyfriend, peaceful and untroubled in sleep. "And he couldn't get back to sleep afterwards and he needed to see me so he came in." He dragged his eyes away from his boyfriend to look back at his dad. "I _had_ to let him sleep here. He _needed _me," he repeated for emphasis.

His dad didn't say anything, but Kurt thought he saw his eyes soften.

"It was a really bad nightmare, dad; he was crying and really shaken up by it," Kurt added pleadingly, willing him to see things from his perspective.

Burt's eyes flickered to Blaine. "Is he alright now?"

Following his gaze, Kurt nodded. "I think so." He brushed a few stray curls back from Blaine's face. "I'll have to talk to him about it when he wakes up, but he slept, so…" He trailed off with a small shrug.

Burt seemed to understand. He nodded slowly. "Just don't make a habit of this. It's ok every now and then if he has a nightmare or whatever, but not just because you two want to share a bed, ok?"

Kurt nodded and smiled gratefully. "Thanks, dad."

"Come down for breakfast when he wakes up," Burt added with a small smile. He left the room and Kurt breathed out a sigh of relief, lying back down next to Blaine again and smiling softly at the way his boyfriend's eyelashes were fluttering in sleep.

He imagined opening his eyes each morning to see this – Blaine with his rumpled curls sharing his pillow, his lashes like strokes of ink brushing against his cheekbone, his features soft, the warmth of his body seeping into his own, their breathing almost in perfect synch. A surge of happiness and desire filled him and he had to bite his lip to stop the smile on his face from becoming too wide. He had never wanted anything so badly in his life.

Fighting with the urge to caress Blaine's face or kiss his parted lips, he let his hand rest on Blaine's hip, rubbing his thumb in slow sweeps over his hipbone. He listened to the distant sounds of his family having breakfast and just breathed in his boyfriend's scent until he could stand it no longer and reached up to smooth his thumb over the length of Blaine's cheekbone, feeling the gentle tickle of the ends of his eyelashes against the tip of his thumb.

Just as he removed his hand, Blaine shifted, inhaling deeply and cracking his eyes open. Upon seeing Kurt he smiled sleepily. "Morning," he murmured with a yawn.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Kurt apologised. He felt bad; Blaine had had a rough night and needed the rest.

Blaine stifled another yawn. "I don't mind, not when I'm waking up like this."

"How are you?" Kurt asked, giving Blaine a meaningful look.

Blaine knew what he was inquiring about. "I'm fine," he assured him. "It's just one of those things. I'll just…have to get used to it. At least they aren't on a nightly basis like they used to be."

"You used to have them every night?" Kurt asked with a frown. "When?"

"Back when I was living in the attic," Blaine replied hesitantly, looking like he regretted telling Kurt about it. "It wasn't so bad after I met you." Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but Blaine cut him off before he could get a word out. "And I know you've had your fair share of nightmares in the past, too, so you can't start beating yourself up for not knowing about mine."

"How did-"

"Finn told me."

With all of his retorts lost, Kurt decided to drop the matter. "Let's just call it even and be glad we have each other to go to now."

Blaine leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Sounds good to me."

School on Monday came with a surprise: halfway through French Kurt was called to see Principal Figgins. He left the class while his classmates gaped at him and headed for the principal's office, puzzling over what he could have done that required him to be taken out of class. It was only when he reached the end of the hall that he realised this might not have anything to do with him, but might be about Blaine instead.

He broke into a jog, clutching at the strap of his satchel as fears filled his head, most of them involving Karofsky in some way – Karofsky cornering Blaine in the back stairwell, Karofsky attacking Blaine in a deserted corridor somewhere, Karofsky dragging Blaine out the back of the school and beating him up…

With his heart in his throat, Kurt skidded to a halt outside the principal's office and yanked the door open, not even remembering to knock.

The first person his eyes landed on was Karofsky and rage flared up inside him, panic at what Karofsky had done to Blaine making his hands and legs shake. He stormed up to his tormentor, who had an oddly subdued expression on his face.

"You-" he began angrily, but stopped when he noticed someone else out the corner of his eye.

Blaine was sitting in the seat opposite and there wasn't a mark on him – he didn't look frightened either, just warily curious.

Kurt frowned. "What-?"

"Is everything alright, Mr. Hummel?" Figgins asked.

"I-" Kurt looked between his boyfriend and Karofsky, confusion replacing his surge of anger. "Yes."

Thrown, Kurt crossed the room a little shakily and sat down next to Blaine. Blaine gave him a small smile and a little shrug in response to his questioning look, before turning to face the principal.

Figgins rested his hands on his desk, lacing his fingers together as he surveyed the three boys in the room. "Mr. Karofsky asked me to call this meeting today so he could say something to you boys," he announced with a nod at Kurt and Blaine.

Kurt was utterly baffled. The only reason Kurt could think of for Karofsky to ask for this meeting was to get Figgins off his back and make him believe that he was going to leave Kurt and Blaine alone. If that was what was happening here then Kurt wasn't going to believe a word of it; he didn't trust Karofsky one little bit.

Karofsky cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "I- I wanted to apologise," he said quietly.

Kurt raised his eyebrows coolly and heard Blaine shift in his chair.

"Formally," Karofsky added in a louder voice. He glanced briefly at Figgins before looking back to Kurt and Blaine, his gaze steady. "I thought it would carry more weight if I apologised here in front of the principal instead of if I just said it in the hallway or whatever."

"Or you thought that saying sorry in front of the principal would let you continue to harass us without fear of repercussions," Kurt shot back. He scowled across the small room at Karofsky.

"Mr. Hummel, you wanted your bullying to stop and now the one you said was giving you the hardest time is here trying to apologise and move on," Principal Figgins chastised. "Let Mr. Karofsky say his piece."

Leaning back in his chair, Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. "Karofsky has bullied me relentlessly for _years_, so I'm sorry if I'm suspicious. His sudden change of heart is a little unbelievable."

"Mr. Hummel-"

"Fine," Kurt sighed in exasperation. He stared coldly at Karofsky, waiting expectantly for him to sprout his pre-planned speech of lies.

Figgins nodded encouragingly at Karofsky to continue and the jock cleared his throat again.

"I didn't think you would believe me – you have every reason not to – but I _have_ changed. Because of Blaine." Karofsky indicated a startled Blaine with a nod of his head.

Kurt glanced at Blaine briefly, exchanging a puzzled frown with his boyfriend.

"Are- Are you talking about what I said to you the other week?" Blaine asked.

Nodding, Karofsky leaned forwards slightly in his seat. "You gave me a lot to think about that day. You're right, I shouldn't be spending my senior year tormenting people I probably won't ever see again. You-"

Kurt couldn't help himself; he scoffed. When everyone turned to look at him, he said, "So the only reason you're stopping is because you won't be able to do it anymore once we graduate?"

Karofsky shook his head in protest, his eyes wide in an attempt to convey his innocence. "No! No, that's not it at all. Blaine just made me realise that the world is so much bigger than high school, and I was behaving really ignorantly."

Biting back a sarcastic remark, Kurt waited impatiently for Karofsky to get to the point. He wasn't going to believe anything about how he'd changed, how he was sorry for everything he'd done over the years. He just wanted the jock to say his piece so he could go back to class.

"I never really thought about what I was doing when I taunted you and pushed you around," Karofsky continued, his gaze meeting Kurt's. "I never thought about the big picture, how it might have affected your life outside of school. It was just something I did at school and then never thought about until I saw you again the next day, but for you it must have been different. I could have been affecting your family, your grades, your college applications – I don't know, I could be affecting your _future_." Karofsky shook his head regretfully. "I never meant for that to happen and I'm really sorry if it has. I mean it." He held Kurt's gaze as he waited for a response.

Kurt narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. He sounded sincere enough, but how good of an actor was he? He had managed to play innocent for long enough and fool the teachers, after all. He couldn't really think of what to say; there didn't seem to be much point in arguing, not when Figgins clearly believed Karofsky. "Right," he said eventually.

Karofsky's eyes flickered between Kurt and Blaine for a moment. "I'm truly sorry for everything I've done to you over the years, Kurt – and for how I treated you the other week, Blaine," he added. "I never meant for it to get this far. It was just a bit of a laugh to start with…" He faltered under the glare Kurt was sending him, fumbling around for his words. "I- But, I um- I don't want the fact that I could have ruined someone's future to be hanging over me for the rest of my life."

So now they had reached the real reason for this apology – Karofsky felt guilty. Blaine had gotten him to think about how his behaviour was affecting people's lives and now he felt guilty. Of _course _this was all about him. Kurt should have known.

"So you only-" Blaine began angrily.

Kurt laid a hand on Blaine's thigh to stop him. He was tired of dealing with this; he just wanted it to be over.

"I understand," Kurt said to Karofsky wearily. "I'm glad you've seen how your actions affect others, but I'm sure you can understand why I'll never be able to forgive you for what you've done." He could feel Blaine staring at him, but didn't look over.

Karofsky nodded, his expression sober as he watched Kurt and Blaine guiltily. "I understand," he said quietly.

Kurt gave a brisk nod just as the bell sounded, signalling the end of the current period.

"Well, I think you can all go to your next class if nobody has anything else to say?" Figgins suggested, speaking for the first time since the start of the conversation. Once everyone shook their heads he dismissed them, and Kurt and Blaine left the office immediately, marching quickly through the corridors until they were almost at their classroom. Blaine turned to face Kurt.

"Why did you let him off with that?"

Sighing, Kurt stopped and slumped against a nearby wall. "I'm just tired. I'm tired of dealing with it and I'm tired of trying to change Karofsky's views and make him realise how wrong he is about it all. I just want to put it all behind me and move on."

Blaine stared at him for a moment, his eyebrows drawn together into a sympathetic frown. "Yeah, I suppose I would feel the same way if I was in your shoes. But don't you worry-?"

"That he'll just go on to torment others once he's left school?" Kurt finished for him. "Yes, but I can't see him changing anytime soon." He sighed again, letting his eyes close. "I'm sick of looking over my shoulder all the time and going home with bruises and ruined clothes. Right now I only really care that Karofsky is going to leave us alone, although I'll only believe it when I see it."

"Hopefully he was being honest."

Kurt opened his eyes and exchanged a small smile with his boyfriend just as another student ran passed them, reminding them to get to class.

They hurried down the hall and into their Math classroom. Once they'd gotten to their desks and the teacher had started the lecture, Blaine pulled a notebook from his bag, tore out a page, scribbled something on it, and then slid it over to Kurt. He read the message curiously.

'_I want to try and find Cooper again tonight. I have another idea of where to search.'_

Expecting the note to have been about Karofsky, Kurt was surprised. Neither of them had given up hope of finding Cooper, of course, but he thought they'd already tried everything. He picked up his pen and wrote out a reply.

'_Great! I didn't think it would be this hard to find someone.'_

After checking that the teacher wasn't looking in their direction, Kurt passed the note to Blaine. He watched as Blaine read what he'd written and then nibbled at his bottom lip.

Kurt leaned over and added another short message to the top corner of the sheet of paper.

'_Don't worry, we'll find him.'_

Blaine's idea turned out to be something that had occurred to him while listening to one of Rachel's long rants about Broadway, solo performances, and her vocal range. She had mentioned a website she'd been using all year to track performances and blog posts published online by fellow NYADA and musical theatre studies applicants. Blaine thought it was worth a shot to search for Cooper on it.

They fired up Kurt's laptop as soon as they got home from school, and once they found the right website – Blaine couldn't remember exactly what Rachel had said it was called – Blaine typed Cooper's name into the search bar with trembling fingers.

Text posts and photos popped up. Blaine scanned them quickly before scrolling further down the page, searching for anything that might be about his brother. Kurt anxiously looked on. He'd seen Cooper's Facebook profile picture, so he had a vague idea of what he looked like, but he could only really fidget with the bed covers and hope Blaine would find something.

Blaine scrolled further, narrowing his eyes at a text post. Kurt's gaze was drawn to a video that had appeared towards the bottom of the screen. He frowned at the still frame that was displayed, cocking his head slightly to one side as he took in the frozen image of a handsome, dark-haired man standing at the front of a small group of people. The man looked like Cooper did in his Facebook profile picture – straight, dark brown hair; bright blue eyes; strong jawline; tall, slim build – and the name 'Cooper Anderson' was listed underneath the video…

"Blaine?" Kurt said quietly.

Blaine hummed to show he was listening, not looking away from the computer.

Kurt hesitated for a second. He didn't want to get Blaine's hopes up, so he chose his next words carefully.

"Have you seen this video yet?"

Blaine glanced down at the video and froze. "That's-" He hit the play button on the video and some commercial for a credit rating website started to play, featuring the dark-haired man Kurt had been looking at. It wasn't long, but as soon as it ended Blaine hit the replay button, ending up watching it five times before sitting back and exhaling audibly.

Kurt glanced between the laptop and his boyfriend. "Blaine?"

"That's him," Blaine said roughly. "That's my brother." He played the video again and Kurt stared at the recording of the man who had essentially abandoned Blaine over five years ago.

"That's-?" Kurt began.

Blaine nodded. "Yeah." The video ended and he pulled the laptop towards him and clicked through to the source page, scanning the contents quickly, sighing at its lack of usefulness, and then clicking onto another website.

Blaine searched through every possible website he and Kurt could think of, finding nothing. It was apparent that Cooper hadn't done any more advertisements or any other acting – Blaine said Cooper had gone to college with the intention of studying Law, so unless he'd had a drastic change of heart, he couldn't see Cooper doing any more acting work. Their further searching proved fruitless, and they had once again hit a roadblock. Kurt was beginning to think that both of the Anderson brothers had managed to silently disappear into the background of the world.

* * *

Blaine sighed in contentment as he sank down into the chair opposite Kurt and took a sip of his coffee. It was Wednesday afternoon and they were treating themselves to a mid-week caffeine fix at the Lima Bean. The coffee shop wasn't that busy, the conversations of other patrons merely a low hum in the background, no disapproving glares today.

Kurt slumped elegantly in his chair and gazed contemplatively across the room. "Sometimes I really do think there are people without any mirrors in their houses. Why else would you go out in public wearing that?" He nodded at a woman across the coffee shop from them.

Smiling, Blaine cast a brief glance over his shoulder at the woman and shook his head slightly before turning back to face Kurt. He swallowed another mouthful of his drink, glad that he'd chosen to get a cappuccino this time – he needed something stronger than a latte. He watched Kurt raise his coffee to his lips. For the first time since they'd started dating, he'd been able to pay for their drinks. Burt and Carole had insisted that he not use _all_ of the money he earned to pay for his therapy, so he now had a small fund that he could use to take Kurt on dates, although most of it was being set aside to save up for when he went to college.

"What are you thinking about?" Kurt asked lightly.

Blaine snapped out of his thoughts to find Kurt watching him with a fond smile on his face. "The future," he replied. Not wanting Kurt to get the wrong idea, he quickly added, "New York, college, you…"

Kurt glanced briefly over at a couple of people sitting down at a table nearby before reaching to place his hand over Blaine's where it lay on the table by his coffee cup.

"It's going to happen, Blaine; all of it," he said softly. He gave Blaine's hand a light squeeze. "I know it."

Blaine smiled in response, flipping his hand over to return the pressure of Kurt's hand on his. "Moving to New York will be so much harder for you – you've got family here you'll miss whereas I don't." Behind him, a chair scraped heavily against the floor.

"It _will_ be hard," Kurt agreed, staring down at their joined hands. "But there are phone calls, and I'll teach my dad how to use Skype, and we'll see each other on holidays. It's just something I'm going to have to get used to. I can't stay in Lima forever." He met Blaine's eyes again. "And I'll have you there to help me through the hard times."

Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by someone clearing his throat pointedly. He looked up with a guarded expression, but the sudden recognition that hit him made the colour drain from his face, and he almost fell out of his chair in shock.

It was his parents.

As he stared at them in speechless horror, Kurt shot them a brief frown. "Can we help you?" He turned back to Blaine, no doubt about to roll his eyes at him or something, but then he did a double-take, stricken horror appearing on his face as he realised who it was standing by their table.

For a moment it seemed like none of them could speak. They all just stared at each other in stunned silence. But then Mr. Anderson spoke.

"Blaine, can we-?"

"How did you find me?" Blaine blurted out.

"Let's go somewhere priv-"

"No," Blaine interrupted firmly. "We're not going anywhere to talk; I'm staying here." He wasn't a child anymore, he wasn't going to do everything his parents wanted him to do. If they thought they could come here and he'd just obediently follow them home, they were wrong. Those days were over.

His father frowned darkly. "Blaine-"

"Whatever you have to say can be said here, but first you can answer my question: how did you find me?"

His parents exchanged a look. They were just as Blaine remembered – his father with hard eyes and permanent frown lines, his mother perfectly put together and with disapproval in her eyes.

"A friend of mine saw you in this coffee shop last week while she was in Lima doing some shopping," his mother replied. "You've changed a bit since she last saw you, but she still recognised you, and she heard someone say your name. We've been coming here around this time almost every day trying to find you."

Blaine remembered the woman that kept glancing in his and Kurt's direction last week. He'd thought at the time that it was strange and that she was looking at them. Apparently he'd been right.

He shifted in his seat and realised he was still holding Kurt's hand – something that kept drawing his mother's attention. He gave Kurt's hand a light squeeze, letting him know that he was ok and could handle this.

"So what do you want?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as level as possible.

The frown lines on his father's face deepened. "We haven't seen you since you ran out of the house almost a year ago. What do you _think_ we want?"

"If you want me to go back to your house and live with you, you can forget it."

"You're still our child and you'll do as we tell you," his father told him in the commanding voice that, a year ago, Blaine would have never dared argue back to. But Blaine wasn't that kid anymore.

He shook his head, jaw set with determination, letting them know he wasn't going to back down on this. "I left almost a year ago; you can't just show up now and demand I go back with you. I won't do it. I have another home now, a _real_ one." He glanced at Kurt, who was pale and tense. The Hudson-Hummel house was his home now, _Kurt _was his home now, and he wasn't going to give that up.

His mother's face tightened as his father's eyes flickered to Kurt and stayed there – sharp, unwavering, disapproving, hard, like chips of ice. Kurt stared unflinchingly back and a muscle in Mr. Anderson's face jumped.

"I see," Mr. Anderson said after a pause. He looked back at Blaine. "So, you ran away from home to shack up with this…" He glanced back at Kurt, his insolent glare taking him in, a nasty smirk twisting his mouth. Blaine gritted his teeth. "…boy here and now that you're living the filthy little fantasies you used to have, you don't want to leave."

"That's not how it is! Kurt's family took me in when I had nowhere to stay, and Kurt and I, we're in love," he informed his parents with relish, smiling at their appalled expressions. He deliberately rubbed Kurt's forearm, drawing his parents' attention.

His father regained the ability to speak first, not that his mother was saying much to begin with.

"Love," he scoffed. "What do you people know about love? This isn't love." He waved a hand at where Blaine was rubbing his thumb across the soft, delicate skin on the inside of Kurt's arm.

"And what you and mom have _is_?" Blaine shot back angrily. "Her just doing everything you say and standing back while you do all the talking?"

"How dare you speak to-" his father began in a low, dangerous voice.

"Blaine," his mother interrupted, "just come home, come home and we can sort things out. We'll get you back into a good school so you can go to college and get a proper degree – maybe Law, like your brother."

Blaine shook his head stubbornly, and Kurt finally spoke up.

"He said he isn't going with you. He's been living with my family for months now and you never bothered to try and find him. You were the reason he left in the first place, so why should he come with you?" There were angry spots of colour on his cheekbones and he grabbed Blaine's hand again, clutching it tightly to emphasize his point – he wasn't letting Blaine go.

"We've been looking for him all this time," Mrs. Anderson protested.

Blaine huffed out an exasperated breath. "No, you haven't, you would have found me if you had; I've been here in Lima since the night I left, it's not that far." He narrowed his eyes at them. The muscle was jumping in his father's cheek again. "Why do you even want me to come back? You either ignored me or treated me like shit when I lived with you and you hate who I am." When his mother looked over her shoulder to make sure the other customers in the coffee shop were still minding their own business, realisation hit him.

"Are people asking too many questions? Are the nosy, stuck-up people you call friends and neighbours asking where I am? Are my homophobic relatives wondering where I've disappeared to? Is that what it is? After all, you can only pretend that I'm away at boarding school or whatever for so long." From the way his parents had stiffened he knew he'd hit the nail on the head. He nodded and leaned back in his chair. "I thought so. Well, I'm not coming back just to uphold your reputations and perfect family image."

His father's jaw worked for a moment, then, "Right. If that's the way you feel, then fine. If you want to live like this, to destroy your life by keeping up this unnatural nonsense, then fine, but when you finally come to your senses and snap out of this ridiculous phase you're going through don't come crawling to us for money or support. You want to stay away, then stay away. You'll be eighteen soon and no longer of any legal tie to us anyway."

Heart hammering, Blaine looked to his mother; she gave a small sniff of approval – saying nothing but going with her husband's ideas, as always.

Blaine couldn't pretend that this didn't hurt, that this final rejection from his parents didn't stab him in the heart again. This time, however, the pain was dulled, the knives of their words blunt from his own strength and the knowledge that he didn't need them anymore, nor did he _want_ them in his life when they disapproved and hated everything about who he was. He had a new family now and he had Kurt. He didn't need these people who stood in front of him, glaring down their noses at him and his boyfriend.

His father straightened his tie. "That's that then. Have a nice life, Blaine."

They turned to walk away, his mother nodding in agreement with her husband's words once again, when a sudden thought jumped to the forefront of Blaine's racing mind.

"Cooper!" he blurted out.

His parents turned back to face him, both frowning in confusion.

Blaine shifted slightly in his chair so he could look at them directly. "Do you have any means of contacting him at all? A- A phone number or an address?"

"If you think you're-" his father began angrily, but his mother cut him off.

"Here," she said brusquely, approaching Blaine again and rummaging in her purse. She pulled out her cell phone and a pen, grabbed one of the napkins on the table and scrolled through her phone. Ignoring her husband's soft noise of disapproval, she scribbled a phone number down and pushed it towards Blaine. He picked it up with trembling fingers and stared down at the scrawled numbers.

"He asks about you, you know," his mother told him as she stuffed her phone and pen back in her purse.

Blaine's gaze shot up from the napkin. "Wh-"

But she had already scurried back to her husband's side and they were marching out of the coffee shop.

Kurt's hand squeezed his comfortingly as Blaine dropped his gaze back down to the napkin clutched in his hand. "It'll be ok without them, I promise," Kurt murmured.

"Oh, I know." Blaine met his boyfriend's concerned and saddened eyes. "I just- I have a way to get in touch with Cooper now, and what if-"

Kurt reached across the table to place his hand over Blaine's mouth, shaking his head. "Don't stress yourself worrying when you have no idea what Cooper will be like. He might be different, after all, he knew what kind of people your parents were – that's why he left and cut them off, wasn't it?" He withdrew his hand from Blaine's mouth.

Blaine nodded and gave Kurt a small smile. "Yeah, you're right, and if what my mother said is true…"

Kurt patted his hand and went to get them more coffee. Blaine watched him go, his thumb absently tracing over the phone number on the napkin he was still holding. Later today he would be talking to his brother, someone he hadn't spoken to in five years. The thought made his stomach twist with nerves, but he couldn't help but feel hopeful as well. Cooper couldn't be as bad as their parents.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait! I hope none of you have gotten tired of waiting for this to update.

I finished writing this story a couple of days ago. It's 26 chapters long with no epilogue (it doesn't need one in my opinion). I've also begun writing my next Klaine story :)

Huge thank you to everyone reading and for all of the fantastic reviews! And sorry once again for the delay in posting this chapter.

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex :)

Next chapter: Cooper, more Cooper, and Blaine makes a decision involving California.


	25. Chapter 25

Jiggling his right leg nervously, Blaine stared down at the phone lying on the bed in front of him. He kept twitching a hand towards it, and then withdrawing it quickly as though it were some kind of untamed animal that could whip around and bite him at any moment. The napkin with Cooper's number inked on it rested on his still leg, the penned numbers catching his eye every few seconds as he worried at his bottom lip with his teeth and stared at the phone.

"You don't have to do this today, you know," Kurt reminded him for the fourth time in an hour. "It's already been an emotionally-trying day."

Blaine gave Kurt the same reply he'd given four times that hour: "I want to." Yet he still didn't pick up the phone. He kept preparing himself to do it, kept telling himself, 'Right, I'm going to call him now,' but never did. He kept taking a deep breath and smoothing out the napkin resting on his thigh and reaching out for the phone, but he would always pull his hand back again as doubt crept into his mind. What if Cooper was homophobic? What if he just hung up as soon as he realised who was calling? What if he wanted nothing to do with him? What if the phone number wasn't even real – what was to say his mother hadn't given him a fake number? He kept reminding himself that if his mother hadn't wanted him to have Cooper's number she would have just ignored him and marched out the coffee shop with his father. He remembered her face when she gave him the number, when she told him that Cooper had been asking after him; her expression had been strangely guilty and she'd appeared to be on the verge of tears. Blaine had never seen her look that way before.

Blaine inhaled deeply and stretched a hand out yet again. For some reason, this was even harder than plucking up the courage to confront Karofsky and his friends.

Kurt scooped up the phone and placed it gently into his hand, curling Blaine's fingers around it. Blaine looked up at his boyfriend. Kurt gave him an encouraging smile. "The longer you put it off, the more you'll wind yourself up. You said you want to do it, so do it." He shrugged. "Call him."

Blaine ran his thumb over the buttons on the phone, heart thrumming wildly in his chest. It sounded so simple when Kurt said it like that and really, it _was _simple – it was only a phone call. If it all became too much he could hang up and it would be over, just like that.

Kurt watched him with concern. "Or I could call him if you wanted?" he suggested. "And if it goes well then you could talk to him."

Shaking his head, Blaine smoothed the napkin out again. "No, I can do this – I _need_ to do this." He dialled the number with fingers shaking so badly it took him several attempts to enter the correct digits. When he had triple-checked to make sure he'd entered the correct number, he quickly hit the call button before he could talk himself out of it again.

Breathing shallowly, he lifted the phone to his ear and listened to the rings. It rang once, twice… five times. Just when he was about to give up, the sixth ring was cut short as someone picked up.

"Hello?"

The voice was male and, despite not having heard it in years, was instantly recognisable.

Cooper.

Blaine mouthed wordlessly into the phone, wide eyes fixed unseeingly on Kurt's concerned ones. He felt like all the air had been kicked out if his lungs, like a sharp blow to his chest that had forced the air out of his chest and left him gasping.

"Hello?" Cooper said again.

Kurt waved a hand at Blaine, encouraging him to say something.

Blaine inhaled shakily. "Um, h-hi." The phone shook in his hand and he clutched at it tighter. "Hi, Cooper."

The faint hum of the connection was deafening.

"Who- Who is this?" Cooper asked tentatively.

Blaine wasn't hurt that Cooper appeared not to recognise his voice; it _had_ been years since they'd last spoken, after all, and his voice had matured and deepened since then.

He licked his dry lips. Now was the moment.

"It's Blaine," he said, mildly surprised at how calm his voice was – no stuttering. "Your brother."

The worry in Kurt's eyes heightened and he slid across the bed until he was sitting directly in front of him, their legs almost brushing. He reached for Blaine's hand, smiling softly when Blaine entwined their fingers eagerly, clutching at Kurt's hand as he waited for Cooper to respond, praying he didn't hang up.

Cooper's rapid breathing could be heard above the soft buzzing of the connection. "Blaine?" he echoed, half in wonder, half in shock. "How did you- _Blaine?_"

Blaine gripped Kurt's hand tighter. "Yeah, it's me."

Cooper exhaled shakily. "Blaine," he breathed. "How- How are you?"

"I'm- I'm good. It's been a rough year, but everything's fine now and the future looks promising," Blaine replied with a smile at Kurt.

"What do you mean it's been a rough year?" Cooper asked, sounding almost afraid of what Blaine's answer might be. "Have- Is it our parents?"

Blaine closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. Cooper knew nothing of what had happened over the last five years. He didn't know Blaine was gay or how he'd been treated by their parents because of it; he didn't know that Blaine had been homeless for six months. Cooper knew what their parents were like to an extent, but he'd never been subjected to the level of abuse that Blaine had. And now Blaine would have to tell him everything.

He honestly had no idea where to begin.

"Yes, it's because of our parents," Blaine began slowly without opening his eyes. He felt Kurt's thumb smooth over the tops of his knuckles.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds and Blaine took the time to try and gather his swirling thoughts.

Cooper sighed wearily. "I'd hoped they wouldn't be the same with you. I thought that after I left they would realise they needed to change their ways."

A small spark of annoyance flickered inside of Blaine and he tensed, opening his eyes. "Well, they didn't change. And you never bothered to check."

"I did check up on you!" Cooper protested, sounding more hurt than defensive. "I called every few months to check that you were doing alright – that's the only reason I kept in contact with our parents! If it hadn't been for you I would have cut them off completely."

Blaine frowned, desperately trying to hold back the tears that were prickling in his eyes. "How could you have known how I was doing if you never spoke to me?"

"You were always out whenever I called or were busy doing homework or something, but mom always assured me you were…" He trailed off, obviously realising something. "She was lying to me, wasn't she?" he said, speaking more to himself than Blaine and sounding both resigned and frustrated with himself.

"Surely you must have known?" Blaine retorted, letting a hint of his anger slip into his tone. "You can't have believed that I was unable to talk to you every time you called for the last _five years_. If you even called," he added in a low mutter.

"I did call, B! I _swear_ to you that I did, but-" He broke off with a frustrated growl. "Fuck."

Blaine just set his jaw and waited for his brother to explain himself. He hadn't intended on getting this angry, but now that he was hearing all of this and beginning to realise that Cooper wasn't going to hang up on him, he couldn't help it; he supposed he should have expected it after the way Cooper had just walked out of his life.

"I've been an idiot," Cooper declared a moment later, exasperation with himself evident in his tone. "I've been a horrible and irresponsible brother. I should never have abandoned you like that and I shouldn't have accepted the lies mom told me every time I called." He sighed heavily again. "I've been selfish, Blaine," he confessed. "My life's been going great, and I let myself believe every lie mom told me about you so that I could have a clean conscience. What mom told me was what I wanted to hear, so I accepted it and I'm _so_ sorry. You have every right to be angry with me."

Blaine heard Cooper swallowing thickly and wondered if his brother was crying. He couldn't imagine it; he didn't remember ever seeing Cooper crying before.

"I'm so sorry, Blaine," Cooper repeated sincerely. Before Blaine could say anything in response, he continued in a more upbeat voice, "But I'm going to get you out of there; you can come live with me in California! You don't have to stay with our parents any longer."

Blaine's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish as he stared almost pleadingly at Kurt, as if willing his boyfriend to somehow explain everything to Cooper so he wouldn't have to.

"I- I can't," he stammered.

"What do you mean you can't?" Blaine could almost hear Cooper's frown. "You want to move out, surely." A thought must have occurred to him because he suddenly added reassuringly, "You don't have to worry about them not letting you move out. You're almost eighteen, right? You can leave if you want to."

Blaine shifted his weight around on the bed a little. He tried to think of some way to break the truth to Cooper gently, but quickly realised that there was no way to do so. He would just have to come right out with it.

"I can't come to California to live with you because I don't live with our parents anymore," Blaine explained nervously. "I haven't for almost a year now."

The phone slipped a little in his sweaty grasp and he had to tighten his hold on it to keep it from falling. Kurt continued to watch him with wide, anxious eyes. They both knew the confession Blaine would have to make soon and the horrible story he would have to tell.

"You haven't- Blaine, what the hell is going on?" Cooper demanded. "You call me for the first time in _years_ and I have no idea how you got my number since apparently our parents didn't want us in contact, and now you're telling me you don't live with them and you can't move to California?"

"I- I can't come to California because I can't leave here. Everything is finally going right for once and I don't want it to end, so I can't just- just take that risk and go to another state," Blaine explained. "And I don't want to leave Kurt," he added softly without thinking, his eyes on Kurt's face.

"Kurt? Who's Kurt?"

Blaine froze, realising what he'd just said. "He- He's-" He swallowed nervously; it was time to do it, time to come out to his brother and hope to hell that he wasn't the same type of person as their parents, that at least one person in his family would be accepting and supportive of who he was.

Though only hearing half of the conversation, Kurt understood what was happening. He rubbed soothingly across Blaine's fingers with his thumb, a little reminder that he would be there and would continue to love and support him no matter how Cooper reacted.

Blaine took a steadying breath. "Kurt is my boyfriend." Then, deciding he might as well be as clear as possible, added, "Cooper, I'm gay."

Three beats of his racing heart, one blink of Kurt's eyes, just enough time for him to become aware of the sweat prickling in his palms.

"Well, that explains a lot," Cooper said slowly.

"I- what?" That wasn't the response Blaine had been expecting.

"Your complete lack of interest in girls, liking _Vogue_, and I did notice you looking at other boys." Blaine could hear the smile in Cooper's voice.

"So…" Blaine began slowly, his stunned mind still trying to process Cooper's reaction. "So it doesn't bother you that I'm gay?" It just seemed too good to be true.

Cooper made a small noise of confusion. "Why would I care who you-?" He broke off and when he spoke again a second or two later his tone had changed completely. "This is why you don't live with our parents anymore, isn't it?" He wasn't really asking the question; he sounded wearily resigned and incredibly guilty. "I should never have left you. If I'd know that you would-" His voice broke and he fell silent except for his ragged breathing.

"I came out to them when I was fourteen," Blaine told him in a dead voice. "I thought it was the best thing to do – the _right_ thing to do. They- They didn't take it very well."

Cooper let out a small, distressed groan. "Oh God… P-Please tell me they didn't hit you."

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Blaine shook his head even though Cooper couldn't see him. "They didn't. It was a close call a few times, though."

"Blaine, I'm so sor-"

"Yeah, well, you just left me with them when you knew what they were like," Blaine pointed out bitterly, his anger flaring up again. "You found them so bad that you had to cut yourself off from them, yet you left me with them and didn't even bother to find out how I was really doing. Why even bother calling and asking about me if you didn't want to hear the truth?"

Cooper sighed shakily. "Because I'm not like you; I'm not selfless. I regret all of it; you've no idea how much I hate what I did," he finished in a choked voice.

Now that Blaine's anger had mounted again he couldn't let it go and his response came out sharp and spiteful.

"You regret it now, but if I hadn't called today how much longer would you have carried on without contacting me and settling with mother's lies? Would you have _ever_ bothered to try and talk to me again?" Kurt was frowning at him now, his eyes and mouth tight from so much strain and worry that Blaine began to wish he'd agreed to be alone while he called Cooper. "Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did you never tell me anything or offer for me to come with you?"

It took several long seconds for Cooper to reply and Blaine began to worry that he wouldn't get an answer or that Cooper would finally hang up.

A heavy sigh came down the phone line. "Is it possible for us to meet? I think this is something better explained in person." When Blaine said nothing, he added, "I promise I'm not trying to avoid telling you; there's just a lot we need to talk about and I don't want to do it over the phone. I need to see you, Blaine… I need to see you and apologise properly for everything I've done."

Blaine found himself agreeing before he'd even thought about the request. "Ok," he said quietly.

"Ok?" Cooper repeated, his voice rising with hope. When Blaine confirmed it again, he made a broken noise of relief. "I'm going to come and see you as soon as I can. Where do you live? Are you still in Ohio?"

"Yeah, I'm still in Ohio," Blaine confirmed in a stunned voice. He couldn't believe this was happening. He'd worried so much about making this phone call and now Cooper was making plans to visit him. "I'm in Lima."

He could hear a slight rustling on the other end of the line and assumed Cooper was writing this down. "Lima?" he echoed, a note of recognition in his tone. "Did you say you live with your boyfriend?"

Blaine glanced up at Kurt and offered him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I do." He rattled off Kurt's address and gave Cooper Kurt's phone number so he could let them know when he would be visiting. After one more apology from Cooper and a promise to be out to Ohio soon, the call was over and Blaine was pressing the button to hang up before letting the phone slip from his numb hands onto the bed.

His heart was still racing and his fingers continued to tremble as the remaining nerves and strain slowly drained from his body. He stared down at the phone, stunned over what had just happened. He'd hoped that his brother wouldn't have the same views as their parents, but he hadn't really expected him to be the almost complete opposite of them.

"Are you ok?" Kurt asked him quietly some time later – Blaine wasn't sure how long.

Blaine finally lifted his gaze, meeting the familiar sight of Kurt's concerned blue eyes. He nodded, feeling the last of his overwrought emotions that had built up during the call leave him. "I'm great – and relieved. That went better than I expected it to. And you were right," he added, affectionately stroking the side of Kurt's hand with his thumb, "I _am_ glad that I called him."

"Good," Kurt replied with a warm smile. "So, is he coming over to visit or something?"

There was a small flutter in Blaine's stomach at the reminder, over so quickly he couldn't tell if it was nerves, excitement, or both. And there was still that tiny grain of doubt in his mind, irritating as a stone in his shoe, that didn't trust Cooper and didn't believe he would come like he promised.

"Yeah, he said he'd come as soon as he could." He tried to keep his tone light, but some of his unsettling emotions must have slipped into it since Kurt's eyebrows drew closer together and he bent towards him.

"And you're ready for that?" he asked. "You're happy to see him?"

Blaine thought back to what his brother had been like when he was younger, the admiration he'd had for him. He remembered the emotion in Cooper's voice as he apologised on the phone and his distress at how Blaine had been forced to leave home. He thought about his desire to learn why his brother had left and his need to have a member of his family care about him, to have his older brother back…

"Yes, I want to see him."

* * *

One of Kurt's biggest concerns after Cooper's phone call was that he wouldn't call Blaine back or come to Ohio like he had promised. Whenever the phone rang over the next couple of days he would run to answer it, hoping it would be Cooper and he wouldn't have to see Blaine's crushing disappointment and rejection if his brother never called.

The increasing anxiety and stress was palpable in the house by the third day. The rest of the family already knew about the call and Cooper's potential visit and even they were beginning to look worried, jumping every time the phone rang. Everyone was just desperate for Blaine to get his brother back, so much so that Burt didn't even argue when Blaine slept in Kurt's bed.

Kurt was listening to a tense Blaine play the piano when the phone rang.

The tune Blaine was playing cut off, his fingers hitting other keys as they slid into his lap. He stared with only the faintest glimmer of hope in his eyes as Kurt floundered around, his long legs waving in the air as he inelegantly rolled off his back and off the couch, landing in a low crouch. He hurried from the room, his socked feet slipping and skidding on the wooden floor, into the kitchen where the nearest phone was. It was still ringing when he snatched it out of its cradle and he could distantly hear the sound of Carole calling down the stairs for someone to answer it.

With a thumping heart and mentally braced for yet another disappointment, Kurt answered the phone.

"Hello?"

An unfamiliar male voice greeted him. "Hi, could I speak to Blaine Anderson, please?"

Kurt froze, his brow crinkling into a concerned frown as a small ball of nerves materialised in his stomach and settled with an uncomfortable weight. What if this was a police officer or some other kind of official wanting to try and force Blaine to return to live with his parents? What if the reason Mr. and Mrs. Anderson had left them alone was because they were planning to involve the legal system? Of course, this could be any number of other people calling – someone from the restaurant where Blaine played piano, someone from McKinley whose voice Kurt didn't recognise, it could even be Cooper – but Kurt couldn't help but jump to the worst case scenario.

He licked his dry lips nervously. "May I ask who's calling?"

"It's Cooper Anderson," the man replied. "I'm his older brother – I spoke to him a few days ago."

Kurt's heart leaped erratically in his chest and he snapped out of his rigid, tense state, dashing through to the music room, almost crashing to the floor as he slid on the polished wood.

"I'll just get him for you," he gasped into the phone, breathless in his relief and anticipation.

"Do you live with Blaine or…?" Cooper wondered as Kurt threw out his free hand to stop himself from smashing into a doorframe.

Kurt froze with his hand on the handle of the door to the music room. Blaine had started playing again, assuming the call wasn't for him. Kurt felt a little rude for not introducing himself. "Sorry," he apologised. "I'm Kurt, Blaine's boyfriend."

Cooper made a small noise of recognition. "You're Kurt? Oh, can I just thank you for being there for Blaine when I should have been? I mean, I'll thank you properly in person when I see you in a few days, but-"

"You're coming here?" Kurt interrupted, his excitement making his voice higher than normal.

Cooper sounded slightly perplexed. "Well, I promised Blaine-"

"Just talk to Blaine," Kurt told him, entering the music room and hurrying over to his boyfriend, who immediately stopped playing to look up at him curiously. "Here he is." He held the phone out to Blaine, his hand trembling in his relief and excitement. "It's your brother," he informed Blaine breathlessly.

Blaine's eyes widened with surprise, and he accepted the phone slowly, raising it to his ear.

"C-Cooper?" he breathed.

Kurt sunk down onto the couch he'd been sitting on earlier and listened to Blaine's half of the conversation with his brother, smiling at the way Blaine's face lit up as he listened to Cooper's plans to visit in two days' time. The thrilled smile didn't leave Blaine's face for the rest of the call, and when he said goodbye to Cooper a short while later his smile widened into an eye-crinkling beam and he set the phone aside on the piano bench before leaping to his feet and tackling Kurt in a hug. Kurt laughed as he held him, tucking his chin on Blaine's shoulder as Blaine relayed all of the details of Cooper's visit to him and thanked him again for encouraging him to get Cooper back in his life. Kurt was so relieved that Cooper was actually coming his body felt weak with it. Meeting up with Cooper was bound to make a huge difference to Blaine's mental health.

Cooper's flight landed in the early afternoon. It was a weekday, so he had to take a taxi from the airport to Lima, and Blaine chose a location for them to meet at. Kurt and Blaine headed there straight after school and if all went well they could return to the house together.

The spot Blaine chose was the small park where Kurt had found Blaine on Christmas Eve. Blaine had wanted somewhere quiet and private and this was the first place he'd thought of. It appeared deserted when Kurt parked his car on the street and he immediately began to panic, thinking Cooper had lied or backed out at the last minute. It disappeared, though, when they got out of the car, walked into the park, and found Cooper sitting on the same bench Blaine had occupied on Christmas Eve.

Blaine stumbled to a halt when he spotted his brother. "He really came," he breathed in stunned relief. He didn't show any signs of moving anytime soon, so Kurt took his hand and gently tugged him along. Although Blaine didn't resist, the closer they got to him the more he began to hang back. Kurt could only try to imagine what Blaine was feeling right now – anxiety and nerves, worry of what would happen after today, fear of rejection… And Kurt was pretty much helpless to stop any of Blaine's concerns manifesting; this was all in Cooper's hands and he could either help Blaine heal or create another painful wound inside of him. Kurt squeezed his hand in an offering of support.

Cooper looked up at the sound of their approach. He looked a little pale and Kurt could see similar nerves in his eyes.

"Blaine…" Cooper said softly, getting to his feet. "I-" He looked Blaine up and down. "You've changed. You look more mature and-" He broke off, shaking his head, a small frown line appearing between his eyebrows. "But of course you do, the last time I saw you you were barely thirteen."

Blaine didn't seem to know what to say. Before Kurt could think of something to break the awkward silence beginning to settle around them, Cooper turned his attention to him.

"You must be Kurt," he said, his brilliant blue eyes, so similar yet so different from those of his father, taking Kurt in from the tips of his meticulously styled hair to the toes of his new boots.

Kurt immediately felt mannerless. "Sorry," he apologised, extending his free hand towards Cooper. "I should have introduced myself. I'm Kurt Hummel, Blaine's-"

"Boyfriend," Cooper finished for him, taking his outstretched hand. A small, crooked grin appeared on his face as he glanced between Kurt and Blaine. "You two make quite a good-looking couple."

Blushing, Kurt exchanged a quick look with Blaine. "I-"

Cooper waved his response away. "I'm just messing with you. I'm the older brother, I'm pretty sure there's some sort of law stating I have to embarrass you guys – right Blaine?" His words were light and almost careless, yet his eyes when he looked at Blaine were wary and hopeful.

Blaine snapped out of the stunned trance he was in. "Wh- Oh, yeah." He cleared his throat and gave Cooper a small but genuine smile.

Encouraged by Blaine's response, Cooper took a step closer. "So are we going to talk? I promised I would tell you everything, and I want to hear what happened between you and our parents."

Blaine nodded and began to move towards the bench Cooper had just abandoned. "We can sit here and-"

Letting go of Blaine's hand, Kurt stepped away. "I'll let you two have some privacy."

Blaine turned back to him with a frown, his hand reaching for him. "Kurt, you don't have to-"

"Yes, I do. You haven't seen each other in years and it's better if I leave you alone." Seeing a quick flash of anxiety flicker across Blaine's eyes, Kurt smiled encouragingly at him and added, "I won't go far, I'll just walk around the park a bit."

Biting his lip, Blaine nodded and sat stiffly down on the bench next to Cooper, leaving a good foot of space between them. Kurt held Blaine's gaze for a moment, before he turned and walked away from the two brothers, heading around the small pond. He settled down on a bench on the opposite side and checked to see how the Anderson brothers were doing, squinting against the light bouncing off the water's surface to see them.

Cooper was in the middle of describing something, his expression serious, and he used his hands at certain points in his story for emphasis. Blaine was listening intently, his expression impossible to discern from this distance, but Kurt could tell from his body language he wasn't particularly angry or upset. Kurt hoped it would remain that way.

After a while he continued to wander aimlessly around the park, keeping his distance from Blaine and Cooper, trying not to stare in their direction. He attempted to distract himself thinking about the latest songs they were working on in Glee Club. He tried not to look too eager when Blaine called his name a while later, and he forced himself not to break into a run when he was waved over to re-join the Anderson brothers. Though he really wanted to know what Blaine and Cooper had been talking about, he knew it was really none of his business and it was up to Blaine if he wanted to discuss it with him.

"Is everything alright?" he asked carefully when he reached the bench. His eyes flickered between Blaine and Cooper, scrutinising their expressions and posture, trying to gauge how their conversation had gone. Blaine was smiling, his eyes bright with happiness, and he was sitting closer to Cooper than he had been earlier. A smile tugged at the corners of Kurt's lips at the sight.

"Everything's great," Blaine said. "I just thought it would be good if you and Cooper got to know each other a little better."

"I want to get to know the guy who turned Blaine's life around and made him the happiest he's been in years." Cooper's voice was both grateful and emotional. He met Kurt's gaze. "Seriously. Thank you for being there for him when I should have been, for helping him when he had nobody else." His smile was watery, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Blaine told me everything – how you found him in your attic and brought him food and cared for him. You didn't have to do any of that, but you did."

Kurt's throat closed up. "I could never have walked away from Blaine – not then, not ever," he proclaimed, voice cracking slightly around the first couple of words. He looked down when he felt Blaine's hand slide into his and smiled at his boyfriend. "I love your brother, Cooper," he said without looking away from Blaine. "He means the world to me."

"I know," Cooper replied. "And I understand now why he can't come to California with me. I can't ask him to leave what he has here." There was the faintest trace of sadness and regret in Cooper's tone. He let out a short, unamused bark of laughter. "I don't know why I still thought you would want to move, Blaine. If you were still living with our parents, or still homeless-" he choked up at the thought- "then things would be different, but I'm almost a stranger to you. Why would you want to come live with me?"

Kurt bit his lip as he watched Blaine turn to look at his brother with wide, shining eyes, brows drawn together. "You're still my brother, no matter how much time passes without seeing or hearing from each other. We'll never be strangers."

Cooper raised his arms slightly, hesitantly, a look of uncertainty on his face. At Blaine's nod he slid closer and pulled his younger brother into a hug. Kurt smiled as Blaine returned the embrace, his fingertips pressing into Cooper's back. Blaine sniffed quietly when they broke apart and his eyes immediately sought Kurt's. Kurt knew what he was thinking before he even opened his mouth.

"Why don't we all go back to our house?" he suggested. "Cooper, you can stay for dinner if you'd like and meet the rest of my family."

Cooper didn't respond straight away and Kurt could understand where his hesitancy was coming from, but all it took was one glance at Blaine and then Cooper was nodding and agreeing.

Everyone else was home when Kurt, Blaine, and Cooper arrived. Carole was already preparing dinner in the kitchen so Kurt scurried through to let her know that Cooper would be joining them, leaving Blaine to give Cooper some kind of pep talk in the entrance hall. When he returned he found Cooper looking more confident and less pale than he had done on the ride over from the park. Despite this, Kurt found it difficult to compare this Cooper to the bold, almost cheesily confident man in that musical credit rating commercial. Blaine was clearly one of the few things Cooper took seriously.

Blaine led the way through to the living room where Burt and Finn were watching TV. Burt looked up at the sound of their approach, his initial look of curiosity rapidly changing to one of understanding when his gaze landed on Cooper.

"How was your day, boys?" he greeted them as he always did.

Kurt remained quiet, letting Blaine respond.

"It was good. Great, actually," Blaine amended with a glance at his brother. "This is my brother, Cooper. Cooper, this is Kurt's dad, Burt Hummel."

"Pleased to meet you, sir." Cooper approached the armchair where Burt was sitting and held out his hand. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for my brother."

Burt shook his hand. "I couldn't have kicked the kid out, especially not when Kurt was so attached to him. I'll admit I had my doubts at first, but I got to know him and saw how he was around Kurt and it didn't take me long to realise Blaine was a good kid who'd just gotten a shit deal in life."

"He shouldn't have needed your help in the first place," Cooper sighed. "I should have been here for him."

Burt dipped his head in a small nod. "Maybe, but I heard you had your own problems with your parents." When Cooper's expression didn't change, he added, "Don't beat yourself up for what happened. It's your parents who are at fault here."

Cooper nodded his head, but the guilt never left his eyes. He was saved from having to respond when Finn looked up from the TV and blinked in surprise at the stranger in his living room.

"You're Blaine's brother?" he asked, shifting on the couch to see him better. He squinted at Cooper. "You don't really look all that much like him."

"Uh, yeah, I'm his brother." Cooper eyed Finn curiously. "You don't look anything like Kurt."

"Oh, Finn's only my step-brother," Kurt explained. He looked over his shoulder at the sound of approaching footsteps. "And this is my step-mom, Carole."

Carole smiled warmly at Cooper. "It's lovely to meet you. I'm so glad Blaine has some family in his life again."

As Cooper thanked Carole for everything she'd done for Blaine, Kurt leaned against the arm of the couch and watched the small smile on Blaine's face widen as Cooper reached out to clap him on the shoulder with a grin.

"Does this mean Blaine is moving out?"

Kurt's gaze snapped down to Finn, who was also watching the scene before them. "Why would he be moving out?" Kurt asked, though he already knew the answer.

Finn looked up at him, surprised. "Well, he's found his brother, so shouldn't he go live with him? Shouldn't he be with his family?"

"He-" Kurt's reply of how Blaine didn't have to move if he didn't want to and how they hadn't spoken in years died in his throat. Cooper was Blaine's _family_, the only family he really had left. Maybe he being selfish, wanting Blaine to stay. He didn't want his boyfriend in another state. Family was one of the most important things there was and Blaine had thought he'd lost his completely, but now he had his brother back in his life and he shouldn't be risking that to be near Kurt. His relationship with Cooper was still fragile; Kurt couldn't risk letting them lose contact again.

"Kurt?" Finn was peering at him with some concern.

Realising he hadn't given Finn an answer, Kurt swallowed. "He'll probably go live with Cooper," he said flatly, his eyes on Blaine's bright smile. "It'd be the best thing for him."

Dinner was a struggle for Kurt. He did a good job of acting normal, delighted at having Cooper there with them. Nobody at the table noticed that he fought with the urge to run upstairs and sink into the corner of his room, sobbing, or that he would rather be alone and he thanked his natural talent at acting for being able to talk and laugh with the others as if everything was fine.

He kept it all together until Cooper left to go to his hotel around nine with the promise of having lunch with Blaine tomorrow, and he and Blaine went up to his bedroom. It was then, with Blaine lying next to him on the bed, their bodies pressed together and Blaine's fingers tracing random, goosebump-inducing patterns on the inside of Kurt's arm, that Kurt struggled for control. If Blaine moved to California they would no longer be able to do this whenever they wanted.

Just as he was about to bring the subject up, Blaine mentioned why Cooper had distanced himself from his family and Kurt forgot about everything else.

"So his reasons for what he did were understandable?" Kurt asked, turning his head on the pillow so he could see Blaine's face.

Blaine was staring up at the ceiling and Kurt was reminded of the night months ago when Blaine had first told him about Cooper. This time, though, Blaine was calm, his fingers continuing to skim and dance over the delicate skin of Kurt's inner arm.

"My parents were extremely controlling with Cooper – I never realised how bad it was, since I used to spend a lot of time shut in my room with my own problems," Blaine explained. "They told him what subjects to study at school, what extracurriculars to take, who he could and couldn't be friends with… They even tried to tell him what to study at college and which school he should attend. He wasn't allowed to make a single decision for himself. They had an image of how they wanted Cooper to be in their heads and they were determined to make sure he matched it. Cooper put up with it when he was younger, but our parents were demanding he go to an Ivy League school to study business or finance so he could return to Ohio to get a respectable job and marry a nice girl and uphold the Anderson family traditions, and after his graduation from high school he couldn't take it anymore and snapped. They fought, a lot of things were said, and then Cooper packed his bags and left for LA. He'd applied to schools there without telling them, and been accepted."

Kurt was silent for a moment as he let it all sink in. Then, "But that doesn't explain why he never bothered to keep in touch with you."

Blaine sighed. "He didn't want to risk learning that I was being treated the same, or worse, because it would mean he would have had to return to Ohio and face our parents again. He knows how selfish and heartless he was and he understands that I may never forgive him for it."

"And will you?" Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine turned his head to look at him, their faces now so close their noses were almost brushing. "I'm on my way."

Kurt held Blaine's gaze, before blurting out, "You should go live with Cooper in California."

Blaine's fingers froze on his arm, his eyes widening in surprise, and Kurt could see a trace of hurt in their warm, hazel depths. "You want me to move to California?" Blaine asked him slowly and uncertainly as if those words were foreign to him.

"I don't _want_ you to," Kurt clarified. "But I think you should."

Blaine looked confused and his hurt was evident when he asked, "Why?"

Kurt moved the hand that wasn't resting on Blaine's belly up to cup Blaine's face. "Cooper is your family – the only family you have left – and if you stay here you'll risk losing him again! Your relationship is so fragile, and with the distance…"

Blaine's eyebrows drew together, his face crumpling slightly. "I'll be going to college in about six months and won't be able to stay in LA anyway, so what difference will moving make? If we want to stay close then we can make it work no matter where we're living – there're phone calls and Skype and we can visit each other…"

"You can't turn down living with your brother just to stay close to me," Kurt said, lowering his eyes to where Blaine's hand still rested on his arm.

"But it's not just that," Blaine insisted, placing a hand under Kurt's chin and tilting his head up so their eyes met again. "I'm happy and settled here with school and everything and I don't particularly want to uproot that by moving to another state. I know Cooper is my family and it's probably not right that I'm living with my boyfriend and his family rather than with him, but I don't want to move to California." He sounded like a small child when he said this last part and Kurt instinctively smoothed his cheek with his thumb. "Unless everyone really wants me to?" Blaine added quietly.

Kurt rubbed his hand on Blaine's stomach a little. "Oh, no, honey, it's not like that. Nobody is _hoping_ that you go. They won't pressure you into going. If you want to stay here then that's fine. I just didn't want you to miss out on the chance to live with your brother because of us." Blaine shook his head, but before he could say anything, Kurt added quietly, "Depending on how college applications work out, we could be living in different states after graduation anyway."

Blaine stared at him, a flicker of something appearing and then disappearing in his eyes before Kurt could tell what it was. Blaine slid the hand resting on Kurt's arm down and tangled their fingers together.

"I don't want to think about that happening. It's childish, I know, but I'm hoping we'll be together in New York." He wriggled closer to Kurt. "But if that doesn't happen then it's all the more reason for me to stay here so we can spend as much time together as possible before our relationship becomes long-distance."

"You've given this enough thought?" Kurt asked, wanting to be sure. He searched Blaine's face for any sign of conflict.

"I have," Blaine assured him. "I'm not _just_ staying here to be close to you. Besides," he added in a lighter tone, nuzzling his nose against Kurt's cheek, "I remember what Cooper is like to live with and I don't know if I could stand it."

Kurt grinned against Blaine's mouth. "And you don't mind living with me?"

"Your cuteness and nice arms and butt make up for all of your annoying habits," Blaine teased, trailing his hand down the curve of Kurt's back. He laughed at Kurt's indignant expression, tilting his head to capture Kurt's bottom lip in a kiss.

"Making sure none of my clothes get badly creased is not an annoying habit," Kurt protested, trying to sound firm but unable to help smiling into the kiss. He pressed closer to Blaine at the feeling of his boyfriend's hand smoothing over the curve of his ass. "But I'm glad my butt makes up for it."

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry again for the long wait! I hope the waiting isn't getting old. This time I was on vacation for 2 weeks and I just got back yesterday, so this was the earliest this chapter could be posted.

Thanks for reading and all the reviews!

And thanks to my beta, xBleedingBlackRosex!

Next chapter is the last one! There's graduation, more Cooper, and college application letters!


	26. Chapter 26

Cooper flew back to Los Angeles three days later. He had accepted Blaine's decision to stay in Ohio and understood why uprooting and moving to another state this close to graduation wouldn't be beneficial to anyone, especially someone with Blaine's past. They agreed to call and talk on Skype regularly, and Cooper insisted that Kurt and Blaine come visit him in California over the summer.

Blaine took Cooper's return to California a lot better than Kurt had expected. He didn't appear to be the slightest bit fazed by the situation, or worried about losing Cooper again. It filled Kurt with relief, even more so when Cooper called Blaine the very next day just for a chat, and to promise he would be back in Ohio to see Blaine graduate.

He was glad Blaine no longer had Cooper to worry about; he had enough stress as it was. NYU had requested he send them a video recording of a musical performance for a final audition piece and Blaine had been panicking since he'd received the letter. Kurt even turned down Rachel's request to help her practice for her NYADA audition to help Blaine choose what to perform. In the end, Blaine decided on Phil Collins' "Against All Odds." It wasn't a particularly difficult song, but it was more the passion put into it that mattered.

That didn't mean Blaine didn't practice a lot; every spare few minutes he had he was dragging Kurt down to the music room to listen to him play the piano and sing. He didn't want to polish it so much that it became robotic, but he also didn't want to mess up the lyrics or miss a note.

"You must really love Blaine," Rachel said as they put their books away in their lockers before Glee club. "Before you met him you would never have turned down an offer to help me practice."

Shutting his locker door, Kurt gave Rachel a small smile and patted her arm. "I'm not ditching you for him, Rach, I promise, he just really needed my help. And let's be honest here – you didn't need my help to prepare, you've been ready for this audition for years." His attention slipped away from Rachel and his face lit up when he spotted Blaine walking towards them.

Rachel pouted at Kurt, her eyebrows drawn together in a slight frown. "I'm still annoyed that you didn't even choose an audition number with me."

But Blaine reached them at that moment and Kurt barely heard her.

"Ready for Glee?" Kurt asked Blaine excitedly.

Blaine had joined Glee club a few days earlier. Kurt knew show choir was something Blaine had longed to be a part of at his old high school, but the club had been disbanded before he could join due to excessive bullying of its members.

Their friends had been ecstatic at the news; they had all been waiting and hoping for Blaine to join for a few weeks now. Kurt wanted to help Blaine with his audition piece, but Blaine had insisted on keeping it a surprise, practicing in the music room with the door shut while Kurt was on the phone or helping Carole with dinner. And despite Kurt's impatience, he had to admit it was so worth it when Blaine sat down behind the choir room's piano during the next Glee meeting and played the opening chords of a hauntingly beautiful, slowed-down, acoustic version of Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream," a song Kurt hadn't realised could possibly sound so tender and breath-taking. It had him on the edge of his seat, his eyes fixed on Blaine as he sang and moved his fingers deftly over the keys, but at the same time it somehow soothed him, sending him into a warm, heavy-lidded trance where he floated in the smooth beauty of Blaine's voice. Blaine poured his heart and soul into the performance, his voice and the notes he played varying in strength from soft and delicate to powerful and spine-tingling. Kurt couldn't remember the last time a song had made him feel so much, or so moved, and Blaine was singing it to him, his soft, shining eyes meeting Kurt's regularly throughout the performance. The song wasn't even halfway through when tears began to blur Kurt's vision. And he wasn't the only one; by the end of the performance even Puck was blinking back tears.

He was welcomed into the club after an awestruck round of applause, punctuated by much sniffing.

"I'm ready," Blaine confirmed, smiling in greeting to Rachel as he reached for Kurt's hand and gave it a brief squeeze.

They ditched Rachel as soon as they arrived in the choir room and left Finn to deal with her incessant yammering about Nationals and her NYADA audition. Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his chair and Kurt took his hand. He knew all of Rachel's talk about her audition preparations was making Blaine nervous about his own and he wished she would shut up. He also knew Blaine had nothing to be nervous about, though; he was extremely talented, both at singing and playing the piano, and NYU would see that in Blaine's video.

When the time to record Blaine's audition piece finally arrived there was no other word to describe how Blaine looked other than 'sick.' His limbs were shaky and every time he opened his mouth he would close it again, as though he were about to throw up. He stayed silent while Kurt set up the camera by the piano and got ready to record, fiddling with the sheet music in his hands and practicing the piece by drumming his fingers against his thighs. Kurt was feeling the nerves, too; his hands shook as he clicked on the camera and adjusted the settings. He knew Blaine only wanted to record this once, if possible. If they had to do it a second time Blaine would probably be much more likely to mess up from the stress.

Once the video of Blaine's audition piece was recorded and sent, though, he wondered why he'd been so worried. He sang better than ever, throwing everything he had into it. If he didn't get a place at NYU, at least he'd performed at his best. No regrets, or what-ifs.

Since Blaine's audition was such a success, they both felt even more hopeful about going to New York after the summer, so much so that they began to look at apartments online. Their budget was limited, and New York was expensive, so they only had the option of small, somewhat shabby apartments in areas far-flung from where any of their prospective colleges were located. But it would be _theirs_, and it didn't matter if they had to get up early to commute. Living there together would still be a dream come true.

Their classmates were gradually beginning to get the all-important letters from colleges, and Kurt's anticipation and nausea increased with each day that he didn't get a letter. He, Blaine, and Finn pounced on the mail when it came, but each time they were disappointed.

The strain was getting to Blaine as well, and he spent a lot of time shut up in the music room by himself playing the piano. Dull grey rings were almost constantly present under his eyes from nights lying awake worrying. Doubt began to creep in.

"Don't," Kurt told him, sliding his hands across the small table they were sitting at in the library and covering Blaine's with them. "Don't be so hard on yourself. NYU is considering you even though your application was late. They wouldn't have done that if you didn't have a good chance of getting in."

Blaine looked up from their entangled hands. "Like you haven't been worrying as well," he teased weakly. Then he sighed. "It's just- So much rests on me getting a place at NYU."

"You will," Kurt assured him, squeezing his hand lightly in further reassurance. "And even if you don't get into NYU, you'll come to New York once you have your degree or we'll both move somewhere else – together."

Blaine gave a small shrug. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed half-heartedly.

Kurt let go of Blaine's hands and returned his attention to his studying, trying to ignore the way his stomach lurched with nerves.

_Please let our letters come soon._

Blaine was the first to receive his letter. The three of them had scrabbled to check the mailbox after arriving home from school, Kurt reaching the mailbox first and extracting the small bundle of envelopes and junk mail with trembling hands. With Blaine and Finn peering over his shoulder, he flipped through the stack, his anticipation mounting with each envelope he moved to the back of the pile. He paused when he spotted the crest for NYU emblazoned on the top right-hand corner of one. Blaine exhaled shakily in his ear as he read the name of the addressee – Mr. Blaine Anderson.

He lifted the letter from the pile and turned to hand it to Blaine, but Blaine didn't take it. He just stared down at it with wide eyes full of fear and worry.

Finn, ever impatient and not understanding the momentum of the situation, shifted his weight to his other foot and frowned at Blaine. "Aren't you going to open it? You won't find out what it says by staring at it like that."

Blaine's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. He reached for the letter with a shaky hand and slit the envelope open with a fingernail. Kurt stepped back to give Blaine some space and a bit of privacy and gestured for Finn to do the same as Blaine fumbled to extract the letter. Kurt's breath froze in his chest as he watched Blaine unfold it and read the contents. The letter began to shake in his grip.

"Well?" Finn pressed after several long, tense seconds passed. "Did you get in?"

Kurt shot him a glare and Finn fell back another step, holding up his hands in placation. Their exchange caused Blaine to look up from his letter.

"I got in," he whispered numbly.

Kurt and Finn gaped speechlessly at him.

"I got in," Blaine repeated in a slightly louder voice, sounding stunned.

Kurt felt like he was floating in some kind of dream state. "You-"

An amazed, elated grin was slowly spreading across Blaine's face. "I got in!" he shouted. "I got in!" He tripped forward, catching Kurt in his arms, lifting him off his feet and spinning him around in a circle. Kurt laughed in delight, ducking down to kiss him on the nose when his feet were on the ground again.

"I'm so proud of you." Kurt kissed Blaine swiftly. "So proud." Blaine beamed up at him, his hazel eyes bright and shining.

Finn slapped his hand down on Blaine's shoulder. "Congrats, dude!"

Blaine dragged his eyes away from Kurt to look up at Finn. "Thanks," he said with a grin. Finn patted his shoulder again before shuffling off.

Kurt leaned in and rubbed his nose against Blaine's, nuzzling against his cheek. "I _knew_ you'd get in," he murmured against Blaine's skin.

Blaine tilted his head to capture Kurt's lips in another kiss. "Your acceptance letter will come soon, and once it does we can start calling to inquire about the apartments we were looking at – start _really _planning for New York."

Humming in agreement, Kurt pulled Blaine closer for a hug, burying his nose into the soft curls on top of his head and hearing Blaine's acceptance letter crinkle as it was crushed between his hand and Kurt's back. The relief he felt now that Blaine had been accepted was freeing, as if a physical weight had been removed from him. All of his own applications were for schools in New York, so as long as he got into one, they'd be set. (Although, of course, his heart was set on Parsons.)

He was in French class when his dad showed up at the school holding an envelope. Before he even reached him, before Burt even told him why he was here, Kurt knew. His mouth went dry.

"Thought I'd bring it straight to you instead of making you wait," his dad said as he pressed the letter into Kurt's trembling hands.

Kurt barely heard him; everything around him had turned into a nonsensical blur, his world centred on the Parsons-marked letter in his hands. He swayed, his pulse pounding in his ears, and he wished he were sitting down. He smoothed his thumb over the Parsons stamp. This insignificant-looking letter would affect his entire life.

He turned the envelope over and began to open it with a finger, praying that he was about to receive good news. He already had a place at NYU to fall back on with the possibility of another at FIT, but Parsons was where he dreamed of going.

As he pulled the folded letter from the envelope, he wished Blaine was there with him. He knew his dad was just as capable of celebrating with him or comforting him, but with Blaine it was different, it _felt_ different. Blaine would be the one in New York with him, after all.

Taking a deep breath, he unfolded the letter. His dad leaned towards him, his face lighting up hopefully.

"Dear, Mr. Hummel," Kurt read out in a low mutter. His eyes lowered to the next line. Every muscle in his body froze. He read the next sentence again, and then a third time just to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

He'd gotten in.

He was accepted to Parsons.

The printed words turned into a black and white blur as his eyes filled with tears. He lifted his head to face his dad.

"I got in," he told him in a choked voice.

His dad's face lit up into one of the widest smiles Kurt had ever seen and a watery laugh bubbled out of Kurt's throat.

"That's my boy!" Burt scooped Kurt up in a hug. "I knew you could do it!" Kurt beamed into his shoulder, a tear slipping down his cheek. His dad rubbed at his back before pulling away just enough to see Kurt's face. "When are you gonna tell Blaine?"

Kurt's stomach squeezed pleasantly and his smile widened at the thought of telling his boyfriend. "We have a class together next – I'll tell him then."

"I wish I could see his face when you do," Burt said wistfully. "I bet it's priceless."

An image of Blaine gazing at him with an elated mixture of joy, pride, and excitement filled Kurt's head. "He's going to be so happy."

Kurt stepped out of his father's arms and read through his letter again, his heart leaping. Burt moved to read it over his shoulder, and when Kurt glanced up at him he found his dad misty-eyed with pride.

"I can't believe my boy's all grown-up and going to New York."

Kurt's stomach flipped with excitement. He was going to Parsons. He and Blaine were going to New York. What they had both dreamed and fantasized about during lazy afternoons curled up on the couch together was all actually happening.

His dad pulled him in for another quick hug, and then he was stepping back and adjusting the cap he was wearing.

"I'm so proud of you," he said, and Kurt smiled even wider, his face beginning to hurt. "I'll let you go back to class, but we're celebrating tonight – for Blaine's acceptance at NYU as well."

Kurt nodded his approval. Blaine had refused a celebratory dinner on the day he'd gotten his letter, wanting to wait for Kurt to get his Parsons one so they could celebrate together, confident as always that Kurt's letter would contain good news. "Sounds good."

He walked back to French class in a daze after his dad left, still holding his letter open in his hands, glancing down to read the lines congratulating him on earning a place at Parsons every now and then just to make sure it wasn't all a dream. He sighed impatiently when he sat back down at his desk and realised he still had over ten minutes until the class was over. He couldn't wait to tell Blaine.

He ran to his next class as soon as French was over, satchel banging against his hip, letter still flapping in his hand. People stared at him as he barrelled down the corridor, almost colliding with Artie in his wheelchair but too fixated on seeing Blaine and telling him to notice.

The teacher stared at him when he skidded into the classroom, breathless. Blaine wasn't there yet. In fact, no one else was there yet; he was the first one to arrive. He used the time until Blaine arrived to straighten up his outfit and smooth the creases out of his letter, glancing up eagerly every time one of his classmates trudged into the room.

"What's that?"

Kurt's head shot up from where he'd been bent over his letter, re-reading it for what must have been at least the tenth time – the words would be imprinted in his brain soon.

Blaine was standing by his desk, lifting his satchel off his shoulder and gazing curiously down at the letter lying on the desk in front of Kurt.

Kurt blinked, thrown by Blaine's sudden appearance. "It's my-" His fingernails scrabbled against the plastic top of the desk as he pic ked the letter up. He gave his head a tiny shake. "I got in," he told Blaine, his voice rising in excitement. "I got into Parsons."

Blaine's mouth fell open. "You-"

Kurt handed him the letter and Blaine almost immediately let out an excited yelp that caused everyone in the room to fall silent and stare at him. "You got in! I knew you would!" Blaine dropped down into his chair, his eyes shining with joy, his whole face lit up in elation. He threw his arms around Kurt's shoulders and hugged him tightly. "I'm so proud of you."

Kurt beamed into Blaine's collar until someone cleared their throat loudly.

"Boys," their teacher chastised, "I need to start the lesson; break it up now."

Blaine reluctantly sat back in his own chair, his cheeks flushed a happy pink. He pulled his notebook out his bag before reading through Kurt's letter. He smiled adoringly at Kurt when he handed it back, his eyes full of pride.

"You did it," he mouthed.

Kurt grinned as he folded the letter up and slipped it into his bag. He'd done it.

Blaine pulled him into another hug after class was over and they'd stepped out into the corridor.

"Congratulations!" he squealed, turning his head to the side and pressing a kiss to Kurt's neck. He squeezed Kurt gently. "You realise what this means, don't you? We're going to New York together!"

Kurt froze as the complete reality of what his letter meant hit him. They would have to find an apartment to rent, one with a decent-sized bathroom and enough closet space for all of his clothes; they'll try all the local coffee shops to find one to be 'theirs'; they'll be cooking dinner for each other and brushing their teeth at the same sink…The domesticity of it all made Kurt's heart swell. He looked down as Blaine moved back a little, his gaze soft and loving.

"We're going to New York together," Blaine whispered, his voice catching, so full of a deliriously happy awe.

The smile that tugged at the corners of Kurt's mouth was full of wonder. "We're going to New York," he echoed, and laughed as Blaine kissed him, right there in the middle of the corridor. And Kurt didn't tense up like he would have done not too long ago, because McKinley had changed, only a couple of people stared at them as they kissed – close-mouthed, chaste, and sweet – and no homophobic slurs were thrown their way. The majority of people in the corridor ignored them. Without Karofsky and his friends leading the way, nobody really cared about harassing them anymore. Kurt still didn't feel comfortable enough to hold Blaine's hand as they walked to lunch or kiss his cheek when they split to go to separate classes, but it was enough.

That night, when Burt saw them lingering in the doorway to Kurt's room – arms around each other, murmuring softly, Kurt's chin on Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine nuzzling his cheek into the curve of Kurt's neck – he sighed in resignation and said, "Go on then."

When they turned to look at Burt in confusion, he jerked his head to indicate Kurt's softly lit bedroom behind them.

"You can stay together tonight. Just don't make me regret it."

Blaine ducked his head and blushed at the implication, but Kurt just grinned happily and pulled Blaine back into his room, nudging the door closed with his hip on the way.

They settled down under the covers, legs tangled and bodies pressed together, sharing the same pillow and smiling at each other in their warm cocoon of blankets.

"We're going to New York together," Blaine said again, voice soft but tinged with excitement.

Kurt's smile widened at his words. "We are."

Blaine rubbed his hand up and down the length of Kurt's forearm. "We have to go to Central Park every weekend."

Kurt laughed gently, lifting a hand to stroke the line of Blaine's clavicle. "Honey, we probably won't be living anywhere near Central Park. It's not going to be easy to go there every week."

"If we set aside time for it, we could," Blaine shrugged.

Kurt just smiled at him, knowing that if this was something Blaine really wanted, if he truly did want to visit Central Park every weekend, then Kurt would go with him. He could never say no to his boyfriend when he was like this – he could practically see the pout now.

"Why do you want to go there so often?" Kurt asked, not in a mocking 'you're being ridiculous' way, just curiously.

"I loved Central Park when I visited New York with my family as a kid. I loved how it was so quiet and peaceful and laid-back compared to the noise and rush of the rest of the city. I want us to make time every week to go there and take a break from studying and work, time where we slow things down and forget about everything but being together in the park," Blaine explained. He made a small, happy, surprised noise when Kurt darted forward and kissed him.

"We'll do that," Kurt promised him, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah?" Blaine asked with a hopeful raise of his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Kurt confirmed, nuzzling his nose against Blaine's cheek. "It sounds perfect."

Blaine yawned into the side of Kurt's neck. "New York with you will be perfect," he murmured drowsily.

Kurt smiled at that, his heavy eyelids falling closed of their own accord. Ever since he'd seen New York on the TV and learned about the bright lights of Broadway, he'd dreamed of going to the city. And ever since he'd fallen in love with Blaine, he'd dreamed of spending his life with him. Combining both of his dreams could never be anything but perfect.

* * *

Blaine spent most of graduation day in a state of joyous disbelief. He didn't know what was more difficult to believe: that he was actually graduating high school today or that less than a year ago he was teaching himself out of borrowed textbooks without a hope of ever attending school again. He was so incredibly thankful to Kurt and his family for everything they had done for him. He succumbed to tears three times before they even left the house for the ceremony.

Like he'd promised, Cooper flew in the day before to see him graduate. He spent the morning-of lounging around discussing football with Burt, and he laughed when tears spilled down Blaine's cheeks during a mid-morning cup of coffee.

"You should be happy you're graduating, B!" Cooper said as Blaine swiped at the tears. "You're finally getting some freedom."

Hiccupping, Blaine leaned into Kurt's side and his boyfriend put an arm around him, rubbing his hand up and down the length of Blaine's bicep. "These are happy tears," he sniffed.

Cooper sipped at his coffee. "I jumped around the house cheering on my graduation day," he reminisced.

The graduation ceremony was a lot more boring and dragged-out than Blaine had expected it to be. Too many people gave speeches that all had the same underlying message; a list of rather abstract moments from the senior class' final year was read out, the situation and meaning of some of them twisted to show them in a better light; and way too many supposedly inspirational quotes were read out. Blaine gave up paying attention after the third speaker. He passed the time by having a silent conversation with Kurt who, due to alphabetical seating arrangements, was in the row behind him, smiling at how his boyfriend rolled his eyes each time another speaker stepped out onto the stage. In the seat next to Kurt, Finn dozed.

Finally, the important part of the ceremony arrived. Blaine almost cried again when his name was called, but managed to hold himself together as he crossed the stage, received his diploma, and flipped his tassel over. He even managed to exchange a grin with Cooper when he caught his brother's eye. Kurt didn't do so well, breaking down as soon as his name was called and crossing the stage with the tears clinging to his cheeks and glistening under the lights. He made a beeline for Blaine as soon as he'd flipped his tassel and Blaine pressed a handkerchief into his hand, which Kurt used to dry his face with a grateful smile. When the last person had finished shaking hands with Figgins, they threw their hats up into the air with a cheer. Kurt threw his arms around a laughing Blaine, pulling him into a tight hug as the hats tumbled to the ground all around them.

As their classmates and families slowly trickled out of the auditorium, Cooper took Blaine aside to a quiet corner a short distance away from where Kurt stood talking with his family. Blaine couldn't seem to stop smiling but there were still tears welling up in his eyes. He had expected today would make him a little emotional, but he hadn't anticipated the internal upheaval he was experiencing.

Cooper smiled proudly at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations, Blainey! I can't believe my baby brother just graduated!"

Blaine scowled, a reflex reaction to being spoken to as if he were six years old. "Thanks." He brushed away a tear that had begun to trickle down his face. "I'm just glad today was actually possible."

The smile on Cooper's face faltered. "Have you heard from our parents since the day they…?" He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"Not since that day in the coffee shop," Blaine told him, his own smile finally fading a little. "I-" He hesitated for a beat, gave his head a small shake. "I don't particularly want to hear from them again, to be honest."

Cooper frowned, concern flickering in his eyes. "I could try talking to them again? Make them see sense and realise what assholes they are and what an incredible son they're losing?"

Blaine shook his head. "Don't waste your breath. They aren't going to change, and judging by how they've treated me over the years, they don't think I'm incredible."

"And you're happy with them not being in your life? With not having any contact with them whatsoever?" Cooper asked, still looking worried. Blaine wasn't too sure why he was so concerned about this when Cooper himself had no intention of ever contacting their parents again either.

A smile tugged at the corner of Blaine's mouth. "I have a different family now." His gaze slid over to Kurt and the rest of the Hudson-Hummels. Kurt smiled at him when he caught his eye, excusing himself to come over and join them.

"Looking good, Hummel," Cooper greeted him when Kurt reached Blaine's side. He eyed Kurt thoughtfully. "I think you're the only person I've ever seen accessorise their graduation gown."

Blaine looked at the little handmade bird brooch Kurt had pinned to the front of his gown. When he'd first seen Kurt wearing his gown earlier today he'd almost starting crying again when he'd noticed the wire bird. Blinking back his tears, he'd placed soft, adoring kisses all over Kurt's face – on his mouth, his nose, his cheeks – and Kurt had simply smiled at him and hooked his arm around Blaine's waist, holding him close.

Now Kurt glanced down at his pin and touched it gently, a fond smile on his face. "I thought this was appropriate. It symbolises our freedom, after all."

Not knowing the story behind the pin, Cooper glanced between Kurt and Blaine curiously while Blaine rubbed Kurt's lower back. Shrugging, he began digging in his jeans pocket. "I got you both a graduation present." He extracted a blank white envelope and held it out to them. "I got the same thing for both of you; I figured you'd want it that way."

Blaine accepted the envelope and opened it curiously while Kurt watched over his shoulder. He blinked in surprise when he saw what it was.

Flights for two people to Los Angeles.

"They're for about a week," Cooper said before Kurt or Blaine could do anything but stare at the tickets. "This way you have no excuse for not coming to visit me over the summer."

Blaine got his voice back first. "Cooper, I-"

Cooper waved away what he knew was going to be a protest about the cost. "It was nothing," he assured them. "I wanted to get you guys something and I thought this was the best thing."

Kurt nodded enthusiastically. "It is, it really is. Thank you so much, Cooper."

Blaine threw his arms around Cooper in a heartfelt hug. "Thank you," he murmured into his brother's shoulder as Cooper returned the embrace.

"Promise me you'll use those tickets?" Cooper asked, rubbing Blaine's back.

"Promise," Blaine swore. Kurt nodded.

Burt and Carole gave Finn, Kurt, and Blaine money for their graduation presents, knowing that it was what the three of them would find the most useful as Kurt and Blaine headed for New York and Finn went to Columbus for college. Blaine didn't protest when he received his present, thanking them profusely for their kindness and generosity instead. He understood now that it was the thought and meaning behind the gift that was important. Not what he owed them in return.

He and Kurt flew out to Los Angeles in the middle of July, looking forward to getting a break from organising the move to New York. Although exciting, the repetitiveness and stress of it still caused them to grow tired of it all after a while. A week in LA where they could relax and push it all to the back of their minds was just what they needed.

Cooper met them at the airport, all gleaming teeth and eyes crinkled with his smile just like Blaine's did. He talked excitedly about everything he had planned for their stay as he drove them back to his place – a small single-story house he shared with a friend who was currently on vacation with his girlfriend.

"That means you two can share the sofa bed and do whatever you want as long as you warn me first so I can get my earplugs out," Cooper stated brightly at the end of their tour around the house. He then watched in amusement as Blaine spluttered and turned an identical shade of red to Kurt.

The week was spent visiting all the tourist attractions with Cooper playing tour guide; a romantic meal at an expensive restaurant all paid for by Cooper one night and Kurt cooking them all one of his speciality dishes another night; there was a walk along the beach; shopping on Rodeo Drive; and kissing and bare skin-on-skin under too-hot blankets, gasping breaths punctuating the still silence of the house after midnight and Cooper winking at them with a sly grin the next morning. It all passed too quickly, flying by in a blur of sunshine and waking up next to Kurt's smile with Cooper singing Duran Duran songs while making coffee in the kitchen. When he woke up on the morning of their flight back to Ohio, Blaine lay with his eyes closed, savouring the warmth of Californian sunshine on his cheek and of Kurt's body curled around his back, committing this and the sound of Cooper in the kitchen to memory. He didn't want to leave; he was getting used to living with his brother, but he had New York to look forward to, and Cooper had promised to visit once they'd settled into their new apartment.

They went to New York for a few days with Kurt's family less than a week after returning from LA, spending the short visit viewing apartments to rent and familiarising themselves with the colleges they would soon be attending. Blaine found it hard to take everything seriously when all he wanted to do was stop in the middle of the street and stare because he was going to be _living_ here with Kurt soon. He was in a constant state of excitement, a smile a permanent feature on his face, and he kept taking Kurt's hand and squeezing it, the pair of them exchanging grins and thrilled glances.

"This is the one," Kurt announced, turning away from the wide window and running his eyes over the sparsely furnished space before him. "This one is perfect."

Blaine walked slowly over to join him by the far wall. He paused to look through the doorway into the tiny bedroom with its small, square window overlooking a narrow side-street lined with parked cars. He could see themselves here, see Kurt checking his hair in a mirror in this bedroom, see himself sitting in the living area surrounded by scattered sheet music which Kurt would tut at before chastising him for being disorganised, warning him that he'll lose something one day if he doesn't change his ways – he could see it.

Kurt's hopeful gaze followed him as he turned away from the bedroom and crossed the apartment.

"It's perfect," he agreed, and laughed as Kurt shrieked with delight, engulfing him in a hug that almost knocked him over and kissing his smiling mouth. "Perfect," he repeated when Kurt drew back to beam at him. Burt called the estate agents.

They moved in a week before the new semester began at their colleges. Burt and Finn came to help. The day of the move was long and tiring, made even worse by the hot, sticky heat of summer in New York, causing boxes to seem heavier and tempers to fray. More than one argument broke out between Kurt and Finn, so it was with great relief that they called it a day and sat by the open window, which spilled cooling air over them as they ate takeout pizza. Shouting turned to laughter. Blaine lolled in his chair, surveying the apartment with a fond smile. It maybe wasn't _really_ perfect – the bedroom was a bit on the small size, it wasn't particularly close to either of their schools, and it got really hot on a day like today – but it was _theirs_, their own little (rented) piece of New York, and that made it perfect for them. And now that they were almost finished unpacking, the apartment somehow seemed even more ideal.

Time seemed to pass by at a different pace in New York than it did in Lima, and before Blaine knew it they'd been living in the city for a month. They'd both settled into their respective colleges, become comfortable on campus, made friends in their classes, and kept up the agreement to visit Central Park every weekend. They'd gotten used to living alone together quite quickly. It felt right, and taking turns to make dinner or clean felt natural, like breathing. It was great not having to worry about being interrupted when they stumbled through to the bedroom, attached at the mouth and frantically tugging at each other's clothes. But the best part of living together in their own apartment was falling asleep curled in the same bed and waking up next to each other every morning.

Lying in bed one night, drifting in that fluid state between sleep and wake, Blaine thought about the past month. It was almost exactly like the dream he'd had all those months ago in an attic. Back then he didn't think he would get any sort of future; his outlook had been short and incredibly bleak. But now, here in New York with Kurt, his future was really beginning, and he couldn't be happier. His dreams were becoming reality in this shoebox apartment with the leaking tap in the kitchen they really needed to fix and the constant thrumming heartbeat of the city pouring through the window as he drifted towards sleep, cuddling closer to Kurt in spite of the stickily hot night air pressing down on him, listening to his soft breathing and familiar, comforting heartbeat – a lullaby gently soothing him to sleep. It was everything he had dreamed it would be, and more. He smiled drowsily as Kurt rubbed his cheek against his shoulder in his sleep.

Funny how the world worked.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, that's it. Around eight months of work, over 130 000 words and now it's finally finished. I hope you enjoyed this final chapter :)

Massive thank you to everyone who read this and to every single reviewer, whether you've been reading it from the day chapter one was posted or if you just started reading today. The response to this story surpassed anything I imagined, so thank you all so much! :)

Huge thanks also to my amazing beta, xBleedingBlackRosex!

For those of you interested, my next Klaine multi-chaptered story will start getting posted soon. I'm not exactly sure when the first chapter will be up as I've been quite ill lately which is slowing my writing down, but I'm currently in the process of writing the 3rd chapter (I like to have several written before I start posting), so it shouldn't be too long until the first chapter goes up. It's called '23' and features 1920's Blaine meeting modern-day Kurt. Yup.

Thank you once again :)


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